Preservation
by northernexposure
Summary: A discovery on a distant planet leads O'Neill, Carter, Jackson and Teal'c into a difficult - and dangerous - recovery mission. Original team, set during Goa'uld war. Action/adventure
1. Chapter 1

**Preservation**

**Summary: **A discovery on a distant planet takes SG-1 on a difficult – and deadly – mission.

**Author's note: **I wrote this full-length manuscript about six years ago, but was never happy with it. This has no shippy stuff in it – it's an action/adventure with the original team, set during the Goa'uld war, and when Carter was still a Major. I thought I might as well post it.

**Chapter One**

Jack O'Neill whistled to himself as he ambled through the echoing corridors of the SGC. Life was good. SG-1 had spent the past two weeks on some much-needed down time, and after eight days of fishing in the height of summer, the Colonel was looking forward to getting back to work. Not that fishing for fish that weren't there wasn't a pleasant pastime, but it hardly compared to setting foot on the soil of another planet. So here he was, _very_ early on a Monday morning, restless for work and cheerily confident that the rest of his team would still be soaking up the last few hours of their free time. Not that they didn't deserve to, of course. They'd all desperately needed a break from their heavy duties defending the planet, and O'Neill sincerely hoped each of his team had managed to have as restful a vacation as he himself had. But still, somehow the thought that he had beaten his occasionally over-diligent colleagues back to work was…well, just cool.

Turning the corner into the SGC's control room, the Colonel nodded at Sergeant Davis, seated in his usual place in front of the 'gate controls.

"Colonel O'Neill," acknowledged the 'gate technician with a smile, "good to have you back."

"Good to _be_ back, Sergeant. I see you've managed to keep this place running fairly well without me. Good work."

"Well, it wasn't easy, sir, but we managed. It's actually been pretty hectic since we heard the news, but…" the tech paused as he was interrupted by a familiar voice floating up from the 'gateroom through the microphone.

"_Sergeant, can you do me a favour and get someone up there to bring me down another flashlight? I'm having trouble seeing to recalibrate this junction…_"

"Wait a minute - is that _Carter_?" O'Neill asked in disbelief, leaning forward and spying a blonde head bent in concentration over a tarpaulin-covered mass in the gateroom. "What's she doing here?"

Davis ignored the Colonel for a moment, speaking into the microphone to answer the Major's request. "Sure thing, Major, I'll bring one down myself right now."

"_Thanks, Walter."_

"Major Carter returned several days ago, sir. I guess she heard the news and couldn't wait to get started." The Sergeant stood up, reaching for a cabinet on the wall of the control room and taking out a high-powered flashlight.

"Several _days_?" O'Neill repeated, incredulous. "And here was I thinking the Major had actually got herself a life. Here, give that to me, I'll take it to her."

"Yes sir."

"Wait a minute…news? What news?" O'Neill turned back, only to find Davis answering his telephone. "Never mind…" he amended, jogging down the cast iron stairs that led to the lower level.

The door to the Gateroom grated open slowly, revealing the majestic Stargate standing dormant, pinioned to the concrete floor by the ramp he had climbed many times. O'Neill paused for a moment, as always still awed by the sight. He would of thought that after almost eight years of hurling himself through this ring of stone and into its shimmering blue light, some form of complacency would have taken hold, but it hadn't. How could it, with this miracle of ancient engineering being the means that could take him to the farthest reaches of the galaxy? The Stargate was, quite simply, a marvel of which he could never tire.

The Colonel's attention was brought back to the present by a muttered curse shortly followed by a loud metallic clang coming from one of four tarpaulin-draped hulks that stood in front of the gate ramp. They were roughly square but completely nondescript, and from behind one of them came the frustrated voice of Major Samantha Carter, O'Neill's second in command.

"God _damn_ it! Sergeant, is that you?"

"Not unless I've been demoted during down time, Carter."

Carter's head appeared over the top of one of the bulks, and O'Neill was mused to see that her face was streaked with grease.

"Oh, hey, sir. Sorry, I didn't realise you were back yet." The Major frowned, glancing at her watch, "Wow, is that really the time already? I wanted to be done in time for the briefing."

O'Neill shook his head, "Carter, what are you doing here? Does the principle of down time mean _nothing_ to you at all?"

She flashed him a grin, moving toward him around whatever it was she was tinkering with. "I had a few days off, sir, but when I heard the news I just had to come back."

"News. There's that word again. What news? What is that you're working on, anyway?"

Behind him, the door to the Gateroom slid open again.

"Hey Jack. I didn't know you were back. Good vacation?"

O'Neill turned to see his friend and colleague Dr Daniel Jackson enter carrying two mugs of steaming coffee, one of which he passed to Carter. His face also showed signs of grease smudges.

"Daniel?" O'Neill asked nonplussed, "You're here as well? Weren't you going to some conference, or something?"

"Well, I was, but you don't get news like his every day, do you? Anyway, Sam needed a hand getting everything together. So, did you catch any fish this time? Nice tan, by the way."

"No fish. Just the tan. _What _news?"

The Gateroom door slid open once again, and this time O'Neill turned to see the large bulk of the fourth member of his team, Teal'c, enter with his customary solemnity.

"Et tu, Teal'c?" O'Neill asked wryly.

The former Jaffa raised an eyebrow. "I am unaccustomed to that phrase, O'Neill. It is nevertheless good to see you once again."

"Yeah, good to see you, too, T. And that phrase means, 'why the hell am I apparently the only one who went on vacation'? A well deserved vacation, I might add, that was ordered by General Hammond. For all of us." O'Neill cast a significant eye around his gathered team, none of whom seemed chastised in the least.

"I did indeed return to Chulak, O'Neill."

"Oh really? Well that's good. How's Ry'ac doing?"

"He is well, thank you. However, when Major Carter contacted me with the news, my son understood why I needed to return."

O'Neill stared. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Teal'c stared back impassively. "I do not believe so, O'Neill."

The Colonel turned back to Carter and Daniel, but they were both engrossed in untying a rope that held the tarpaulin over one of the unidentified masses.

"Have I been forcibly retired and no one's thought to tell me yet? Have you guys had your memories erased again and forgotten that it _does actually indicate that I'm a Colonel on my uniform_?"

Carter glanced up at him with a smile. "I was just going to show you this, sir. I think you'll appreciate it."

The tarpaulin slid to the floor, pooling around the four wheels of a large, squat vehicle that appeared to be made for carrying just one person. Its tyre treads were large and deep, and the quad was evidently made for difficult terrain.

"Cool. What is it?"

"It's a snow crawler, sir. General Hammond managed to persuade Washington that the expense was justified given the objective of our mission."

"Carter, it's the height of summer."

Carter laughed. "Not where we're going, Colonel!"

O'Neill stared at the shining new snow crawler, perplexed. "I think maybe I stepped through a quantum mirror by mistake. What the hell are you all talking about? What news? Where are we going? _What _mission?"

His team stared at him.

"Wait – sir. You really don't know?"

"Are you truly ignorant as to what we are referring, O'Neill?"

"Jack, haven't you looked at the reports on your desk yet? Didn't you get your telephone messages? We've been leaving them all week."

O'Neill held up his hands, waiting for them to be silent before tapping a finger on his watch.

"Down time, people. _Down time_. These two words combined indicate a period of time during which an officer usually _stands down_. And ours, I'll have you know, doesn't officially end for another two hours. Am I the only one here that understands that? Am I? _Really_?"

His team stared back at him. O'Neill sighed. "Forget it. If Hammond had thought I needed to cut my vacation short, he would have got hold of me. He didn't, so I'm assuming the world is not about to end – _again_. In which case, I am going to have my fruit loops, and then I'm going to our scheduled briefing, at which I imagine I'll find out exactly what's got you kids so excited. Okay? Right. As you were."

Turning on his heel, Colonel O'Neill stalked into the corridor and headed for the Commissary. Life was good. It was also sometimes really, _really _frustrating.

* * *

Two hours later, O'Neill stared at the florescent diagram on the briefing room's screen in disbelief. "Well," he said at last, "this is certainly…news."

"Yes sir," Carter nodded, standing before the assembled SG-1 and Hammond.

"Why don't you fill the Colonel in, Major," prompted Hammond. "Let's get him up to speed on what's been happening for the past week or so."

"Right. Well Colonel, five days ago SG-15 visited P3X-292 on a routine survey mission after the UAV detected signs that one of the mountain ranges on the planet's large North Pole contained traces of Naquadah…"

"Large North Pole, huh?"

"Yes, sir. In fact, '292 has only two continents, divided by an extensive sea. The Southern continent houses virtually the entirety of the planet's population."

"Virtually? So SG-15 encountered life at this North Pole, huh?"

Carter nodded, turning to change the image on the screen. A digital picture flashed up, showing a vast plain of ice with what appeared a collection of utilitarian buildings at its centre.

"The planet is known locally as Komek. When SG-15 arrived, their presence was detected by personnel from this military base, Barask. It's the only inhabited area of the ice floe on which it stands, known colloquially as The Plate. As well as military personnel, the base houses civilian scientists – geologists, meteorologists, and so on."

"It's kind of like an alien McMurdo," Daniel interjected, "but with more ice."

"More ice? This planet's pole is bigger than Antarctica?"

"Much, Colonel." Carter changed the image on the viewscreen again, this time to show a range of snow covered mountains. "SG-15 were received well. It turns out that '292's inhabitants are at the same stage of technological development as we are – though they had no knowledge of what the Stargate was capable of."

"Apparently, there were archaeologists at Barask who have been studying the dormant gate as a fertility symbol of their ancient past," said Daniel with a smile.

"Fancy that," said O'Neill dryly, receiving an annoyed look from his friend in return. "But – come on, Carter, get to the point."

"Right. Yes, sir – well, SG-15 were particularly welcomed by the scientists resident on the base. After several days in consultation between Barask and the planet's government, they were told about the discovery some geologists had made a few months earlier under this mountain range. The Plate apparently experiences a brief annual thaw, and during the most recent of these, they discovered this." The Majorreturned the image to the florescent scan she had originally displayed. O'Neill raised his eyebrows again.

"Is that really what I think it is?"

"It certainly is, O'Neill. A submerged Ha'tak."

"You're telling me some snake forgot where he parked his Ha'tak? Whose is it?"

"That we don't know, Jack," Daniel explained, plainly excited. "It doesn't fit with anything Teal'c knows about Goa'uld history, and the planet's historians are stumped. There aren't any records – even in their planetary _myths_ – to indicate a spaceship crash-landing on their world. It's a true mystery."

"And no Goa'uld anywhere else on the planet?"

"Not that we can tell, sir," said Carter, finally flicking off the screen and coming to take her place at the table.

"Wow."

"Yes sir."

"So how long do we think it's been there?"

"We don't know, Colonel," Carter shrugged. "but it's got to be in the thousands of years range at least. It's completely submerged in a mountain of ice, and even with the annual thaw no one on Komek has ever caught sight of it before."

"So…the upshot of this is?"

"Well, Colonel, the governors of Komek are eager to know more about what they have on their hands," Hammond continued, "They're happy to let us investigate, and the I'm recommending a trade treaty with the planet. For now, we are to have access to the ship in order to determine how it ended up where it is, in return for general knowledge of the Stargate and the Goa'uld."

"And what about salvage?" O'Neill looked at Carter, who shrugged.

"I'm not even sure it'll be possible to enter the ship yet, sir. The images and scans taken by the local scientists show that a crevice has formed beneath the craft, which may allow us to get close to the hull, but further than that I may not even be able to tell you what sort of shape it's in. It could be damaged beyond repair. And even if we can repair it, then I'm not sure how we'd get it out of the ice cap in one piece."

"But let me guess – you're dying to try, right?"

Carter grinned, "Well sir, this _is_ the most significant discovery of Goa'uld technology we've made in quite a while. Just think of the advantages of having the opportunity to properly study a Ha'tak… "

"And think about it, Jack - where did it come from?" Jackson enthused, "Why is it there? If there were Goa'uld on the planet, why wasn't the population enslaved?"

"Well I don't know Daniel. I'm guessing that you're going to make it your mission to find out." O'Neill turned to Hammond, "Gotta say, sir – I want to take a look at that thing if we can. And I can imagine that this is going down quite a storm in Washington."

"You're right, Colonel. I don't need to explain why free access to a Goa'uld Mothership is invaluable to us right now, particularly given our current fragile relationship with the Tok'ra. If there's any way of salvaging it whole…"

O'Neill nodded, before frowning and casting a glance at Teal'c. "T, what are the chances of there being a hostile force inside that thing?"

"I am not certain, O'Neill, but it is unlikely that, if there were survivors from the crash, they would still be aboard. Nevertheless, caution would be advised."

"And SG-15 is still on the planet?"

"Yes, the team is at Barask, awaiting our arrival," continued Carter. "They're going to brief us there, and then return to the SGC. Apparently there is about to be a change-over of base commander – something that had been scheduled long before the SGC made contact," She glanced down at her briefing notes, "We will be under the supervision of a Commander called Grisk, though the governing body of the planet has assured the SGC that he has been briefed to cooperate with the operation."

"Right," O'Neill shrugged, "well then, General, I guess I'd better break out the snow shoes for these folks. When do we leave?"

"You are scheduled to depart at 15.00 hours, Colonel. We want you out there as soon as possible – the Komek government is eager to explore the Ha'tak and we don't want them to decide they don't need us. Major Carter, I think you have some more implements to gather together for your trip?"

"Yes, General – I've still got to get the generators working to optimal efficiency. Who knows how long we'll need them."

"Generators?"

"In the event that we do manage to access the ship, Colonel. There are no power sources to tap into on the Plate and I'm guessing that after several thousand years in a block of ice, the ships systems are going to take more than the push of a button to get them going."

O'Neill nodded. "The Colorado ESCO doesn't reach that far, huh?"

* * *

O'Neill spent the next few hours going over SG-15's reports of their initial mission and reading the updates the team had sent back since they learned about the ship. No wonder Carter and Daniel were excited about the find – there really seemed to be no record at all of Goa'uld domination on the planet, so whomever the ship belonged to was apparently long gone. Truth be told, if Jack had known about this discovery sooner, he would have been back at the SGC like a shot, good fishing weather or not. A Goa'uld ship? Just sitting there, waiting for him to go and pick the lock? Who wouldn't be eager to get their hands on it? Nevertheless, his excitement was tempered with a soldier's natural caution. It wouldn't be an easy mission in terms of management. For a start the terrain was a nightmare – and despite SG-1's shiny new snow crawlers, the freezing temperatures of The Plate would be difficult to navigate. Besides that, there was the usual general unease that accompanied being in unknown territory. A team of four Earth soldiers against a planet's entire defences weren't what he would call good odds, and despite the gains that were to be had from this mission should it be a success, O'Neill's first concern had to be the safety of his team.

He was just beginning to examine the scans that 292's scientists had taken of the submerged vessel when Teal'c appeared in his doorway.

"Hey Teal'c. Just the man I need to see."

"For what purpose, O'Neill?" Teal'c moved to stand next to the Colonel, looking at the papers littering his desk. "Are you trying to find a way of accessing the submerged vessel?"

"Got it in one, T. This thing's not going to be much use to us if we can't open a hatch somehow. Any ideas?"

Teal'c clasped his hands behind his back and bent over the blueprints, studying them for a few minutes.

"The crevice beneath the ship runs the length of the vessel, does it not?"

"According to these reports, it does. It's about 150 ft deep and 100 ft wide, and reaches out from beneath the mountain range and into the plate itself. I'm thinking that's the only way we're going to get close to the hull, so any access we're able to make is going to have to rely on what's at the base of the mothership."

"There are access hatches, O'Neill, which it may be possible to use, here, here and here," Teal'c pointed to three spots on the blueprints. "However, it is possible that after so long in these conditions, they may be difficult to open."

"Don't worry, Teal'c, I'm sure Carter is packing plenty of de-icer," O'Neill glanced up, realising that his quip was lost on his friend. "But seriously, you think it's going to be possible to get in?"

"I do."

"Well, that's good news. Though I don't think it's going to be plain sailing, especially not from the look of that crevice."

"This mission concerns you?"

"A little, to be honest. Not that I'm not as eager to get my hands on this Goa'uld goody-bag as the next man, but – I don't know, it seems far too easy."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "It is submerged beneath a mountain of ice, O'Neill."

"Yeah, I know, I know. It's just – what's it doing there? Why didn't anyone come looking for it?"

"Is it not part of our mission to ascertain the answers to these questions, O'Neill?"

"Yes, it is. I'd just feel happier if I had all the answers up front for this one. Call me unadventurous – but when it comes to snakes, I don't like their tricks."

"Caution is always wise, O'Neill. But being overly so can sometimes hinder one's efforts."

"Huh. I don't think anyone's ever accused me of being over cautious, Teal'c." He paused, looking at Teal'c "You really want to investigate this thing, don't ya?"

"I am. A Goa'uld losing a ship in this fashion is unheard of, and yet whatever catastrophe befell this vessel must have happened before I was even born. Why then, am I not aware of it? It is a most curious circumstance. And I believe, O'Neill, that you are as eager to retrieve this vessel as I."

"You saw through the act, huh?"

"It was not difficult."

O'Neill grinned. "Okay, okay. So I'll admit that wild horses wouldn't stop me from having a go at this thing. But that doesn't mean I'm not

still aware of what we might find."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow again. "As always, your wisdom in these matters is admirable, O'Neill."

"Yeah, well," O'Neill checked his watch and began to gather up the blueprints and papers on his desk. "Let's go see if Carter's done with her tinkering. It's time we got this show on the road."

* * *

The first thing that struck O'Neill as he exited the gate and rolled his crawler on to 292 was the slicing wind that immediately cut right through him. It took his breath away and almost bent him double as it buffeted his heavy-duty storm clothing. Everywhere was white, as far as the eye could see. A blizzard was riding high across the ice floe, and as O'Neill's eyes adjusted to the bright blank space before him, he realised that it wouldn't be much different had they not arrived during a storm. The Stargate stood in the midst of a huge expanse that stretched wide and almost featureless in all directions. To the North, a huge range of snow-covered mountains loomed, but otherwise the view consisted exclusively of ice fields, jagged with their fresh load of snow. It was easy to understand why the planet's inhabitants referred to this place as The Plate. There was nothing here but ice, and it was as flat and endless as it could get.

Turning his attention back to the snow crawler, he revved the engine and drew it away from the Stargate, pleased to see that despite the heavy naquada generator strapped to it, the small vehicle had no difficulty moving in the harsh conditions. The Colonel wondered briefly whether he should abort the mission and tell the General they would have to wait until the blizzard had died, but decided against it almost immediately. Though the unprotected parts of his face were being bitten by the icy cold, the rest of him was warm enough, and it wasn't as if the team would have to walk to their destination. As cautious as he was about entering the submerged ship, O'Neill understood the importance of the SGC getting to it as soon as possible. If they delayed, the government of this planet – and he really must start referring to it as 'Komek' before they met with their hosts – may start getting itchy feet and start foxing with it themselves, and who knew what would happen.

The Stargate shut down behind him as the snow crawler reached a safe distance and the Colonel disembarked from his ride. The next figure he could expect to see emerging from the wormhole would be Major Carter.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

The shouting voice came from close at hand on his right, and O'Neill jumped, immediately going for his P-90. Damn it! This was the other danger of a climate like this… Through the whipping snow he could see a tall figure, clad heavily against the weather, holding up two hands in a gesture of placation.

"Colonel, I'm sorry. I did try to alert you to my presence at a greater distance, but the storm is too strong. I am Beck, leader of your escort party."

"Right," O'Neill shouted back, "Sorry, didn't see you there. Where's Major Riley? I was expecting to see him."

"He's there, with our vehicles, Colonel." Beck pointed back over his shoulder, to where O'Neill could just make out two shapes in the snow.

Behind them, the gate began to spin. "This'll be Major Carter. She's got the other generator."

"Do you require assistance at the moment?"

"No, its fine – I just need to make sure she moves the equipment out of the path of the gate before the rest of my team arrive."

Beck nodded, turning to move back toward the escort party. The blue light of the open wormhole, spilled out across the snow. It illuminated the surrounding area momentarily, and O'Neill took the opportunity to glance over at the escort. In the sudden incandescence of the gate's activation, he could see Riley sitting atop a strong-looking two-wheeled vehicle. Raising his arm, he waved, and had just enough time to see the Major's answering gesture before the light diminished into a blue glow as the wormhole stablised. A few minutes later, Carter emerged from the puddle, and he caught the brief look of shock on her face as the wind took her breath away. Leaving his own snow crawler, the Colonel moved toward the gate to give his second in command a hand.

"Good journey, Carter?" he shouted over the wind.

"No problems, sir. Daniel and Teal'c are right behind me."

"Okay. Let's move this thing then."

The Major nodded, raising her hands to take the wheel of the crawler. O'Neill saw her notice the skein of ice that had already begun to form across her glove-protected knuckles.

"Wow, tough planet."

"You betcha. Antarctica, eat your heart out!" O'Neill could just make out her hood-swathed grin as the crawler burst into life again and dragged the generator behind it and down into the snow. Carter brought her ride to a standstill next to O'Neill's own before hopping off and moving around to check the two generators after their journey.

Daniel and Teal'c arrived safely a few minutes later, and the team re-grouped.

"Everyone ok?" yelled O'Neill to his team.

"Yeah, fine, Jack," Jackson replied. "SG-15 weren't exaggerating about the weather, were they?"

"Afraid not. Major Riley's over there with our escort. Everyone ready to make a move?"

"It is easy to become disorientated in such weather, O'Neill."

"I know, Teal'c. Just keep your head up, and be as prepared as you can."

At the Colonel's signal, they all nudged their vehicles forward over the icy terrain. O'Neill was grateful for Hammond's efforts on their behalf – had they attempted the journey on foot it would have been one of the most uncomfortable they had ever had to make off world. As it was, the snow crawlers dealt with the challenge well, making good progress over the forty feet or so that separated SG-1 from their escort.

"Major Riley," acknowledged O'Neill when he was near enough to make himself heard over the blizzard. "Everything okay here?"

"Absolutely fine, sir. I'm glad to see you wrapped up warm for the occasion, Colonel."

"Well, after your last report it seemed prudent, Major."

"Beck, do you mind if I talk to Colonel O'Neill alone for a moment? I need to give him a brief verbal report before we proceed."

The alien nodded, "Certainly, Major. Though do not be too long about it – it's advisable that we start back toward Barask as soon as possible."

"I hear you, Beck," said Major Riley. "This'll only take a couple of minutes, I swear."

O'Neill climbed from the snow crawler as Riley came even closer. "Everything ok, Major? Something you need to tell me?"

"It's nothing really serious, Colonel. But they told you in your mission briefing that the military outpost that they call Barask was due to change hands yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, we heard that. Why, what's wrong?"

Riley shook his head. "It shouldn't cause us too many problems, sir, but the new commander isn't quite as welcoming as the old one was. Grisk. He's been pretty unhappy with my team and I since he arrived. I know they've all got standing orders to cooperate with the SGC's operation– but I thought you should be aware that he's not too happy about the situation."

O'Neill frowned at the news. "Thanks for the heads-up, Major. I'll keep an eye on it. You and your team have been treated well, I take it?"

"Oh sure, sir, no complaints at all. The scientists are great – it's just the soldiers who have turned a little jumpy."

O'Neill nodded as the Major returned to the vehicle he was sharing with Beck. This sort of news didn't make him happy. _I knew it was too good to be true_, he thought, as he swung one thickly-clad leg across the seat of his snow-crawler. He'd better rely on Daniel and Carter to do the talking with this Grisk character. If he was really that prickly, O'Neill knew his own temperament well enough to be sure it wouldn't help matters.

"Okay, kids," he shouted to the rest of SG-1 as Beck's little convoy moved out, "Let's hit this ice cube, shall we?"

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	2. Chapter 2

**Preservation**

**A/N: **A slow burn, but I promise there's plenty of action (for every one of the team) coming up.

**Chapter Two** **  
**

The storm blew itself out sometime during SG-1's second hour on Komek, and it dissipated as rapidly as it had arrived. The wind dropped, leaving instead a quiet stillness broken only by the vehicles in their convoy as the last of the snow fluttered to join the fresh drifts littering the plain around them. SG-1 were still following Beck's escort, heading North West from the 'gate across the ice. Their hosts seemed to be perfectly confident in their route despite the recent heavy fall of snow, and O'Neill wondered how they managed to detect and avoid fissures in the ice beneath with so little effort.

Glancing around to check on his team, he noticed that Daniel had strayed a little from the tight path they had been following and was slowing down, pulling his heavy-duty hood from around his ears. The Colonel waved Carter and Teal'c past him, indicating that they should continue on course while he went to find up what was up with the archaeologist.

"What's the hold up Daniel?" O'Neill pulled his vehicle up next to his friend's, who was regarding Komek's vast and now clear horizon with awe.

"Nothing, Jack, I just had to stop and get a look at this. We're completely surrounded by one single ice plate. Isn't that amazing?"

"Uh…sure, I guess, if you like snow."

"But just look at it! Who would have thought you could get so many colours out of ice?" Daniel waved to where the new sunlight was glinting off the fresh snowdrifts, casting rainbows of colour across The Plate. "It's fantastic! I've got to get some photographs."

"So what, you're a tourist now? Come on Daniel, we've got to keep moving. And stay on course, you've got no way of knowing where the cracks are under the surface."

"I just want…"

"Daniel. Trust me, the ice might look nice right now, but if you're forced to spend a night out here with no one to find you, it's a lot less pretty. Come on. When we get home, I'll take you up to Alaska. Plenty of snow up there."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. How far is it now, anyway?"

"I'm not sure," O'Neill replied, as they both gunned their engines and slid the snow crawlers back into deep treads created by the convoy ahead. "But I've got a feeling we're not going to be able to start out to the ship before tomorrow morning."

"I still can't quite fathom it," shouted Daniel over the roar of the snow crawlers' engines, "an entire ship underneath the ice. Makes you wonder what's beneath our ice caps. I mean – we've already found a second Stargate and one of the Ancients…imagine what else could be down there."

"Well, speaking personally, I've been underneath one of them – and all I found was a lot of ice. And I mean a lot." O'Neill looked up ahead. "Come on, I don't want to get too far behind." He saw Jackson nod in reply, and together they pushed their vehicles to catch the other half of their team.

It was another hour before the squat grey buildings of Barask became visible in the distance. It was a peculiar sight in the midst of such a barren white wasteland – five or six large buildings, built of an indeterminate metal, way out here in the middle of nowhere. Barask sprouted out of the ice like an inorganic growth, and Jack was disturbingly reminded of their encounter with Fifth and his advanced fellow replicators. How about: 'Tip of the iceburg – literally and figuratively.' The Colonel hoped that whatever they found under this particular iceberg, it would be a lot less trouble than usual. A niggling unease had settled itself at the base of his skull, causing his shoulders to ache. The trip they had taken from the 'gate to this point had been long and arduous. O'Neill was trained to think in terms of worst-case scenarios, and he really didn't like the one that occurred to him here. To be so far from the 'gate, on such difficult and possibly treacherous terrain, would make it hard to fall back should the need arise. Even the term 'falling back' itself was a relative one. There was nowhere to hide on The Plate, as featureless as it was. It was like a clean sheet of paper without even a crease indenting its surface.

As Barask loomed increasingly larger in their sights, O'Neill could make out much more detail about the layout of the base. There were large and imposing gates made of the same metal as the buildings guarding the entrance, either side of which were two manned look-out posts. There was what appeared to be a holding pen in front of the first building, which was large enough to be split-level and seemed to be lacking any windows, making it by far the most imposing of the lot. O'Neill assessed this to be the military barracks of the installation, probably housing the sleeping quarters, armoury and mess for the soldiers stationed at the complex. All the other buildings were positioned in something roughly resembling a square around this main building, forming a sort of inner courtyard that was open to the air and therefore thick with snow. (Okay, isn't Jack wondering why on earth you'd need gates, holding pens and lookout posts on a base literally in the middle of nowhere?)

Beck signalled that they should all draw to a halt a short distance from the main gates. Stopping his own engine, he disembarked from his vehicle and moved toward O'Neill.

"I hope you didn't find the journey too tortuous, Colonel."

"Well, I could do with a cushion next time."

"I am sure you will get time to rest before embarking on the rest of your trip, Colonel. Right now, I have been instructed to ask you to leave your vehicles here and enter Barask on foot."

"Excuse me? You're taking our equipment away from us?"

"It is only a temporary measure, Colonel O'Neill. Base Commander Grisk has ordered security checks on everything you have brought with you from Earth. I'm sure you understand."

O'Neill did, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Where is Grisk? I was told he would be cooperating with this operation."

"Commander Grisk is waiting to receive you, Colonel," Beck waved toward the large two-storey building just beyond the holding pen inside Barask. "Please, you must trust me. Your equipment will come to no harm, and will be returned to you as soon as these checks have been carried out."

As O'Neill raised his objections with Beck, a door in the barrack building slid open. The Colonel turned toward the low sound of metal grating on metal to see a group of five soldiers in a tight military formation leaving the barracks and heading in their direction through the holding pen, weapons drawn. They were dressed in black clothing that protected them against the climate but offered no hindrance to movement. Even if he'd not been a seasoned military man himself, O'Neill would have had no hesitation in pinpointing the menace that hung in the air over this group.

The Colonel quietly took the safety from his own P-90, glancing around and cursing inwardly at the lack of cover. The atmosphere had turned decidedly sour. Looking toward Major Riley, O'Neill signalled the man over, wondering what in the hell the airman had been thinking. Barask, despite Riley's assurances, sure as hell didn't seem a friendly place to be. If the Colonel had known they were walking straight into this kind of hostility, he would have plotted their approach more carefully. He turned to Carter, who along with Daniel and Teal'c had disembarked their snow crawlers and moved cautiously toward him.

"Watch yourself."

"Yes sir." Carter's face was a mask of calm, but O'Neill knew from experience that his second was hiding a mess of unease underneath it.

"Is that your Commander?" O'Neill asked Beck, thrusting his head toward the scowling leader of the approaching group. The man O'Neill immediately took to be Grisk was dark-haired and looked equally dark-tempered. He himself held no weapon, leaving it strung across his amply wide back while his four accompanying soldiers held theirs at the ready. His swagger and the orders that he must have given his men left O'Neill in no doubt as to the gravity of the moment.

"Yes, Colonel O'Neill, this is Commander Grisk. Please –"

"Colonel, I think things look worse than they are," said Major Riley, arriving at O'Neill's side.

"Is that so, Major? And how do they _look_, exactly?"

Grisk and his party exited the main gate as O'Neill turned to face them. He let his hand rest lightly on his P-90, and met Grisk's look with an equally uncompromising one of his own.

"Colonel O'Neill, I presume."

"That's right. Grisk, I take it?"

"Yes, Grisk, commander of this military base." The Komekian officer turned toward Beck. "Is there a problem here, Beck?"

"No, Commander. I was just explaining to Colonel O'Neill that I had been instructed to remove SG-1's equipment for the purposes of security checks."

"And I," interrupted O'Neill, "was just explaining to Beck that I thought we were here with the good will of your government."

"Oh, you are, Colonel O'Neill. However, my government are a long way from here, and I am charged with keeping the personnel of his base safe from whatever harm may befall them. When you enter Barask, you enter my jurisdiction, and you will do so under close watch." Grisk narrowed his eyes. "Make no mistake, Colonel, my government can order me to be civil, but they cannot order me to put my men in danger."

"I have a feeling the word civil means something slightly different on Earth," O'Neill observed wryly. "We are no threat to your people, Commander. We are here on the orders of our government and yours, on a mission of cooperation between both our planets."

"So you say, Colonel, but you'll forgive me if I'm not quite the easy touch that Komek's politicians are. They are, as I say, a long way from the front line."

"The front line? This isn't a war, Commander. We are here as peaceful allies."

"Yes," said Grisk curtly, "they've told me that, too. I'm unsure how they reached such an assured decision just two weeks after meeting your people. You therefore have two choices. Relinquish what you carry to my security officers, or turn around and go back to your SGC." He indicated O'Neill's P-90, "I find it curious that a force protesting peace arrives at the gates of my base carrying assault weapons."

O'Neill offered a grin that had no pleasantry about it. "Well, Commander, I too have a duty to keep my people safe – from whatever thugs we may meet during our missions."

The sound of a discreet throat being cleared came from behind O'Neill. The Colonel turned, unsurprised to see Daniel raising a hand in an attempt to be allowed to speak.

"Daniel?" O'Neill asked impatiently, keeping out of Grisk's earshot.

"Jack, nothing's going to be gained if we just turn around and go home now."

"Your point being?"

"We aren't hiding anything, are we? What's the harm in letting them check out our equipment?"

"Look around, Daniel. Fancy making a break for it on foot if we need to? Those quads are our only viable way out of here."

"Well, maybe we won't need to think in terms of making a quick getaway if they're happy that they've seen everything we've brought into Barask. There's no way we'd let anyone we hadn't checked out get any further into the SGC than the 'gateroom. We don't have any reason to mistrust these people – SG-15 are all clearly fine. Riley doesn't seem to be concerned."

O'Neill sighed, flicking a glance at Carter, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged slightly, evidently seeing Daniel's point as clearly as the Colonel himself did.

"Go ahead and make your checks," O'Neill said to Grisk, "you're not going to find anything other than tools."

"We'll make our own decisions about that, Colonel," said Grisk, flicking his head sideways to indicate that Beck's people should take charge of SG-1's equipment.

"Hey, watch the paintwork, will you?" O'Neill called as one of the soldiers approached the inert snow crawlers. "There'll be hell to pay with Carter if you damage that finish."

"We're going to need your weapons too, Colonel."

"Didn't doubt it, Grisk. Didn't doubt it for a second."

* * *

Forty minutes later, SG-1 found themselves sitting in a room that very closely resembled one of Cheyenne Mountain's barrack quarters, used to house airmen temporarily assigned to the complex. Four bunks stood toward the back of the room, each with a thin mattress and blanket supplied, and four chairs stood around a square table. Other than that the room was bare.

SG-15 were still no where to be seen, though Major Riley had continued to assure O'Neill that he and his team were fine. Grisk had refused O'Neill's request that the two teams be confined together, saying that since SG-15 had been allowed to roam pretty much free around Barask before he took command of the base, he'd rather they didn't have the opportunity to confer anything they had learned about the planet and it's defences before Grisk's men had assessed the threat that SG-1's arrival posed.

It was frustrating, but if he was honest O'Neill could see the worth in Grisk's actions, and knew that had their roles been reversed he would probably have behaved in much the same way. Knowing this wasn't improving the Colonel's mood much, however. He didn't like being confined under any circumstances, and not being allowed access to his P-90 wasn't lessening his agitation. Riley had seemed to think that SG-1 would get everything back, including their weapons, once the security checks had been completed, but O'Neill was inclined to think that Grisk was going to use anything he could as an excuse to How about 'to send them all home'.. In which case, he'd have to explain to Hammond how he had managed to flush Earth's best chance of getting to know the intimate mechanical workings of the Goa'uld's most tactically advanced space ship down the proverbial pan in less than a day. He sighed.

Carter looked up. "Colonel? You ok?" .

"Yeah, Carter, just peachy. I'm just having nice cosy thoughts about what Hammond's going to say when we turn up way ahead of schedule."

"You think Grisk's going to just make us turn around and go home?"

"I imagine the thought may have crossed his mind."

"Well, he certainly doesn't seem to be very willing to help us," the Major conceded, "but he does have orders from his government to cooperate."

"I believe General Hammond has had such orders from your government on Earth, too Major Carter," Teal'c pointed out, "and has not always seen fit to carry them out as one might think."

"True enough, Teal'c," the Colonel muttered.

"But sir, we can't let them send us back without at least seeing whether we can get inside that ship!"

"I agree with Sam, Jack – after a discovery like this, we can't just go back to the SGC with nothing."

"I know that."

"Perhaps you can find some way to persuade him, O'Neill."

"And how am I going to do that, Teal'c? You saw the man, he's not exactly the sort that seems open to compromise, is he? And he's holding all the cards."

"He is a warrior and leader just as you are yourself. It may be much easier if you can engage him in a dialogue and discuss the matter."

O'Neill snorted. "You know what, Teal'c? Ever since you got rid of junior, you've been listening _way_ too much to Daniel."

"Teal'c's got a point, sir," Carter spoke up. "Grisk isn't acting a whole lot differently to how we would if a group of alien soldiers arrived though our 'gate. Maybe you can persuade him we're not some scout team paving the way for an army."

"It's got to be worth a try, Jack."

O'Neill nodded as the door to their room suddenly swung open to admit two burly Komekian soldiers. Each was dressed in the black uniform Grisk had been wearing upon his first encounter with SG-1.

"Colonel O'Neill, Commander Grisk wants to see you."

The Colonel raised an eyebrow. "Does he now? Well, there's a coincidence." He stood, holding up a hand to Teal'c, who made as if to join his team leader. "It's okay, Teal'c. I have a feeling this is a solo invitation."

Teal'c inclined his head slightly before once again taking his seat.

"Well, come on then," O'Neill said to the two soldiers at the door. "Don't want to keep the good Commander waiting, do we?"

Stepping out of the holding cell, O'Neill found himself walking between two guards. Grisk wasn't taking any chances. Jack scowled to himself. He was a _soldier_, for crying out loud, not a politician. Out in the freezing temperatures of the Plate, he'd have had no problem figuring out what to do. Here, stuck in a situation he was probably going to have to talk himself out of, O'Neill was far less comfortable.

His guards marched him along a corridor that seemed to be on the ground floor. As they turned a corner, O'Neill heard the sounds of a scuffle and shouting coming from somewhere behind him. Turning, the Colonel caught sight of another group of soldiers, again dressed in the standard black uniform of Barask, trying to restrain three or four resisting figures. Their shouting was indistinct, but their clothing was not. They weren't dressed in military fatigues in the manner of almost everyone else SG-1 had so far encountered on the base. They appeared to be civilians, wearing heavily furred coats, hoods and boots, evidently in protection against the weather outside.

"Hey – what's going on down there?" Though he directed his question at each of his guards in turn, they gave no answer. Instead, they began to guide O'Neill up some utilitarian stairs to the second level of the building. "Hey!" O'Neill, knowing it was useless, triedagain, "Are you deaf? I asked what was going on back there."

"They will not answer you, Colonel." The voice came from Grisk, who had appeared from a doorway in front of them. "They know better than to consort with the enemy." The Commander nodded toward his office to indicate that O'Neill should enter.

Jack shrugged. "So what was all that about, out there? Didn't expect to see any civilians out here."

Grisk scared at him coolly. "Do you seriously imagine, Colonel O'Neill, that I would answer such a question?"

"Look, I've told you, we're not your enemy," O'Neill said impatiently, as Grisk shut the door behind them. The Colonel was surprised to note that the two soldiers remained outside. "We're just here to have a look at a discovery some of your scientists made, that's all. Your government _asked _us to come, otherwise we wouldn't even be here."

"Yes, well," Grisk took a seat behind his desk, waving for O'Neill to sit before him on the other side of it. "In my long experience of military duty, Colonel, I have discovered that the meddling of scientists is far more likely to cause problems than solve them." The Commander paused, tapping his fingers against the surface of his desk. "You, however, Colonel, are a mystery to me. When we first met I took the measure of you as a strong leader - now, I am not so sure."

O'Neill frowned at this insult. "Not that I care, but what exactly makes you doubt my leadership skills? Skills that I don't recall you actually seeing in action, by the way."

"You run your team like a democracy," Grisk's words clipped the air sharply. "You allow your underlings to advise you on what you should do – one of them even calls you by your first name. This to me suggests a weakness of leadership, a desire to be friends with those you will one day order to their deaths."

Glancing around, O'Neill noticed the bank of small monitors embedded in Grisk's wall. On one of them, O'Neill could see the three members of his team discussing something. Daniel was waving his hands about expressively, and Carter was nodding.

"Ahh. And here I was thinking you were psychic."

"I have been observing and listening to you and your 'team' since you arrived in my custody, O'Neill."

"Of course you have."

"So I am interested in your methods. I would never allow my soldiers the ease in my presence that you seem to actively encourage with yours. It is a failure of leadership on your part, and it makes me suspicious as to who you four people really are."

"Oh, we are who we say we are, Commander, make no mistake about that. And my team knows it's place – if I were to issue an order, they would obey it without question." O'Neill paused with a slight grimace. "Well, mostly without question. Daniel can be tricky on that score sometimes, but he's working on it."

"'Working on it'? Obedience is not something a military commander should have to cultivate, surely."

"Daniel's not military, Grisk. He's a civilian, a doctor of archaeology on our world."

Grisk's eyebrows shot up. "You allow an untrained _civilian_ into your ranks? "

"At what point in that sentence did you hear me say the word 'untrained'?"

"So he's been through your military's training regime."

"In… a manner of speaking. Well… no, actually, he hasn't. But I'd take him in a fire fight over any one of your clowns."

"And yet you expect me to believe that you are a standard military unit on your world?"

"Uh, no. We're not standard by any means." O'Neill allowed himself a brief smile, but it faded in the face of Grisk's unstinting grimace.

"You are mocking me, Colonel, and I do not appreciate it."

"I'm not. Really." O'Neill leaned forward. "Look, I'll grant you that SG-1 isn't a normal military unit. Like you say, a quarter of it isn't even military at all. But that's because of the nature of our work. We're explorers – we're trying to figure out stuff like that thing you've got buried under a mountain out there."

"And what gives you the right to explore part of my world? What authority do you have to do so before we have done so ourselves?" Grisk scowled. "Komekians should be uncovering their own mysteries, not letting aliens with dubious agendas do it in our stead."

"What authority? Try the fact that we've come up against the force that built that thing down there. Try the fact that we've lost people – good people – to things like the one that owned that buried ship. Hell, maybe even the one that owned that one itself. We know what they are. As far as we can tell, Komek hasn't ever come across the Goa'uld. Count yourselves lucky on that score."

"And why, Colonel, should we do that merely on your say so? Perhaps it is these 'Goa'uld' we should be seeking an alliance with, not Earth."

O'Neill took a breath to quell his rising exasperation. "You wouldn't have a chance," he said quietly after a moment. "They'd enslave you or wipe you out before you'd even had a moment to say hello. And that's everyone – men, women, children. You say you're defending your planet on the front line right now. Imagine not being able to – imagine not having even the chance. Imagine all those civilians, dead or chained with no opportunity to fight back."

Grisk was silent for a moment, staring at something in a frame on his desk. O'Neill couldn't see what the image was looking back at him, but he had an idea it contained the officer's family.

"Grisk, I don't know what's in that ship. But I guarantee you we can tell you more about what we find – together – than you or your scientists will be able to work out alone. We have the experience. And that is what Earth's offering you. That's all. And maybe we'll learn something we didn't already know into the bargain. In our military training Earth soldiers are taught that knowing your enemy is a sure fire way of finding a way to defeat them."

The Commander shifted in his seat, glancing away. "We have that tactic here on Komek too. It's one of the reasons I'm sitting here face to face with you now."

"I'm not your enemy, Grisk. Truly. And you know what?" O'Neill shrugged, "If I was in your shoes, I'd probably be doing the same thing as you are right now. Earth has made allies with quite a few alien races SG-1 have come across on our trips through the Stargate. And with the exception of two whom I know personally, I'd rather none of them had access to the SGC."

Grisk nodded. "I still don't trust you, Colonel, for all your talk of mutual gain."

"That's ok, Grisk. I don't trust you either."

"Ah, but the difference is, Colonel, that I hold the authority here." Grisk squared his shoulders. "The security checks have shown that there is nothing intrinsically malevolent in the equipment that your team brought to Komek. But-" he cautioned at O'Neill's nod, "I want you to understand that you are not welcome here. I will tolerate your presence only for as long as it is absolutely necessary. If I were able to veto the orders I have been handed down from above I would have already sent you back through your Stargate," he continued in a harsh tone, "and I will do so yet at the slightest sign that you are here for any other purpose than what you have just described."

"So you'll let us have access to the ship?"

"On the understanding that you and your team will be supervised at all times. As an extra precaution, I myself will lead the escort that will take you to the wreck site."

"Cool. You and I will be able to get to know each other better."

Grisk raised his eyebrows again, in annoyance this time. "There will be no communication between your team and my soldiers. I am still not convinced that you are not a scouting party, gathering knowledge for your military."

"Grisk –" O'Neill began in protest, but was silenced once more.

"Do not challenge me, Colonel. I am not someone to be trifled with."

O'Neill was silent for a moment. "You gonna tell me what all that kerfuffle was downstairs? They looked like civilians to me – I didn't think there were any outside Barask on The Plate."

"You really enjoy pushing your luck, don't you Colonel?"

"It's a talent," O'Neill flashed Grisk a grin. "My mother always said it would get it into trouble one day."

"Well, it may yet. They were nothing but troublemakers, trespassing on government mining land. They are merely cranks and social exhibitionists, using environmental myths as an excuse to cause havoc. For years they have been disrupting the Southern Continents, whining that the mines are causing danger to The Plate. The former commanders of this base have been far too lenient in their dealings with these fools. I have decided to make an example of this group, to dissuade others from causing me similar trouble."

Jack eyed Grisk, trying to work out if he was hearing the truth. "Yeah, we have similar issues with environmental protestors on our planet."

"Is that so? And how do you deal with such disruptive influences, Colonel?"

"Well, as far as global warming and melting ice caps go, we really do have a problem. The protestors have a point, and maybe they can make the government listen…"

Grisk's inquisitive manner disappeared and O'Neill saw a shutter slam down in the soldier's mind as he banged a hand on the table. "Enough!" He said angrily, apparently seeing something duplicitous in Jack's statement. "You try my patience, Colonel. You will ask me no more questions about the social state of Komek, or how we deal with our problems."

"I wasn't, it was just –"

"Our internal affairs are none of your concern, in whatever terms you couch your attempts to pry into them."

"Grisk. I'm not interested in your internal affairs. I was just trying to find some common ground. Something to connect us. That's all."

"Well, you failed, Colonel. We have nothing in common, you and I. You will do your job, if you are capable of such a thing, and I will do mine. It's my hope that you will then return to Earth for good." Grisk stood, raising his voice so that it carried to the waiting soldiers outside. "Guards, take Colonel O'Neill back to his team."

O'Neill stood, the exasperation of the last half an hour finally threatening to spill over. "Yeah, well, to tell you the truth, Grisk, nothing would please me more right now than to never have to talk to you again. Let's get this job done and over with, shall we?"

Grisk showed his teeth in a crude semblance of a smile. "Finally, Colonel, we have something we agree on. Get your team ready to move out at first light."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**A/N: **As I read this again, it's making me cringe! Six years' more writing experience really is a lot...

* * *

SG-1 were already geared up and prepared to leave when Grisk appeared in their doorway the next morning, wearing an expression not dissimilar to the one O'Neill had seen on the Commander's face the previous night.

"Is your team ready to depart?"

"And a good morning to you too, Grisk. Yes, we're ready and waiting to be let out of our cell, thank you very much."

O'Neill's flippant tone caused Grisk to scowl even more, and he turned on his heel and left the room. The Colonel assumed this was SG-1's cue to follow, and so he led the way into the corridor behind Grisk.

"Sir, I'll need a few minutes to check the equipment over before we leave," said Carter, walking behind him. "I need to make sure that nothing was damaged during the search."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do."

SG-1 were led into Barask's central courtyard, where several groups of soldiers were milling around various piles of equipment. On the far side of the courtyard stood SG-15, their own equipment piled next to SG-1's confiscated snow crawlers.

Grisk turned to O'Neill. "If you wish to converse with your men, do so now. They will be returning to the SGC when we ourselves leave Barask. You may move freely within this square – as long as you do not try to interact with our soldiers."

O'Neill nodded, watching as the surly commander turned on his heel and returned to the barracks.

"Right. Daniel, Carter, go check the equipment. Teal'c, you're with me. Daniel, no taking any risks, okay?"

"I don't know what you mean, Jack."

"I mean, no talking to strangers. Even if there's a lot they could tell you. Got it?"

Once Daniel had given him a nod and followed Sam, O'Neill headed for Riley. This was the first time the Colonel had seen the four members of SG-15 since he entered Barask, and O'Neill was relieved to note that none of them seemed to look any the worse for wear.

"Colonel O'Neill," Riley greeted.

"Riley. You ok?"

"Fine sir. We're being escorted back to the SGC shortly."

"I know. Make sure you tell Hammond everything that happened here, but stress that we're ok. I think SG-1 are clear to pursue our objective."

"Yes, sir."

After speaking for a few more minutes with Riley, O'Neill moved over to where Carter and Daniel were checking out their kit. The Major had the hood of one of the snow crawlers open, and was frowning into the engine.

"Problem, Major?"

"No, doesn't seem to be sir. They haven't tampered with the snow crawlers as far as I can tell. They've obviously had a good look at the generators, but there's no damage done. They didn't rip them apart or anything – Commander Grisk obviously had real engineers look at them, so that's a relief."

O'Neill nodded, crouching down to look into one of the kit bags that Grisk's soldiers had removed from the snow crawlers. "Good. Anything else missing?"

"Not that I can make out, sir. It's all just a little rearranged."

"Our weapons are here, Jack." Daniel's cautious voice came from behind another snow crawler. "Doesn't seem to be as much ammunition as there was when we came through the 'gate, though."

Teal'c moved to investigate. "Daniel Jackson is correct, O'Neill. Half our ammunition has been removed."

O'Neill nodded. To tell the truth, he was surprised that Grisk had even allowed them their P-90s back, let alone the ammo. He supposed this way Grisk could argue to his government that he had assessed what SG-1 might need in terms of self-defence and reduced their provisions accordingly. Very smart, in leadership terms. Damn annoying for SG-1's leader.

"Okay. Well, kids, we'd better get all this packed back onto the quads."

Twenty minutes later, their equipment was back in some semblance of order and securely fastened to the four snow crawlers. O'Neill was tying down the last of the kit bags when Grisk reappeared in the square and signalled that they would all be departing shortly. He approached O'Neill.

"Everything to your satisfaction, Colonel?"

"In as much as you've managed not to let your goons break anything," returned O'Neill, still sore about his missing ammunition, "but I notice you didn't see fit to return everything we came with."

"You can't argue that I haven't given you enough to protect themselves with, Colonel, and you'll have myself and a team of highly trained Komekian soldiers to make sure you are safe. What you could possibly want with so much extra ammunition on a mission of research and peace is quite beyond me."

O'Neill nodded sourly. "I imagine there are quite a few things that are beyond you, Grisk."

* * *

The sun was already bright in the sky as SG-1 and their escort left Barask, though a cold wind still blew across The Plate. O'Neill watched as SG-15 and their escort, led once again by Beck, turned and headed back toward the Stargate.

Their own party turned North immediately, heading for the large range of mountains on the horizon. SG-1 were sandwiched between two squads of six troops. In front of _them_ was Grisk and one companion who seemed to be navigating the expedition.

The Komekians were all seated on the two-wheeled vehicles that appeared to be the universal mode of transport on The Plate. They seemed a little lighter than SG-1's own quads, the form more akin to an Earth motorbike than heavy snow crawlers. Their tracks were shallower but apparently just as efficient, though SG-1's own vehicles had no trouble meeting the pace set by Grisk's men. O'Neill hoped that indicated that the snow crawlers were by no means a slower, poorer cousin. He liked to think that SG-1 could at least make a break for it and stand a fighting chance on a run across the ice.

At least the weather was better. It was in fact almost pleasant as the alien sun rose higher over their heads. If not for the wind, it would have probably been warm. O'Neill hadn't managed to get an accurate answer as to how far the site they were heading for was from Barask. Grisk was being his usual evasive self, unwilling to answer a direct question with a direct answer. Instead, he gave O'Neill a distance measurement that was clearly Komekian, without stopping to discuss how it would translate into a measurement that SG-1 could understand.

O'Neill had instructed Carter to take directional readings as best she could, so that they would have some rough idea of where the Stargate was in relation to their position. The Colonel was still edgy about his team's situation here, but less so than he had been the previous night. A search of their equipment must have proved to Grisk that they were being honest with him, and O'Neill had been secretly encouraged by the return of their P-90s. Maybe, he thought, there was hope for a better working relationship.

They had been travelling for around 45 minutes when O'Neill heard a shout from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Carter pointing at something on the horizon to the west. Tipping his binoculars up to his sunglasses, O'Neill saw two columns of dirty black smoke, rising above a spindly construct in the ice. The mining operation, he supposed, thinking back to the protestors he had seen in Barask the night before. O'Neill turned his attention back to their route ahead. The mountain range was looming closer, and the Colonel guessed it would be no more than an hour, possibly less, before they reached their destination. He'd been over the points of access with Teal'c again the night before, though there had been no chance to talk with Grisk on the subject before they had departed. The Colonel reflected that in the long run, that could be a blessing. Grisk would have no choice but to listen to SG-1's advice on getting into the Ha'tak, because after all the mothership was designed to be virtually impenetrable. O'Neill welcomed the idea of having the upper hand in this situation. He was used to giving orders in the field rather than receiving them. Jack also had a very good reason for wanting to be in control when – if – they managed to penetrate the ship's hull. If Grisk went ploughing on ahead into the mothership, there was no telling what might happen. Though O'Neill was increasingly inclined to agree with Teal'c's supposition that there had been either no survivors to the ship (how could there be, it's been buried for thousands of years), or that whoever had survived had simply abandoned the Ha'tak and got another ship to pick them up, O'Neill didn't want Grisk damaging what was inside. In this instance, the Colonel felt that the 'shoot first and ask questions later' tactic could only hinder their already slim chances at salvage.

The convoy slowed its pace, eventually drawing to a stop as Grisk disembarked. The Commander entered a brief conversation with his navigator, and O'Neill took advantage of the lull in activity to once again lift his binoculars to his eyes. Through them he could see, a little way ahead of where their convoy had halted, the beginnings of a crevice in the ice. It was clear that they had halted because it was not safe to take their entire complement, vehicles and all, any closer without fear that the chasm beneath would open up further. O'Neill heard movement, and saw Grisk approaching.

"Colonel O'Neill, a word with you, if you please."

Climbing from his own mount, O'Neill felt the bite of aching muscles as his legs came awake. The quads may be practical beasts, but they surely weren't built for comfort. His knees also caused him to wince as he made his way to where Grisk stood. Not for the first time in the past few months, O'Neill wondered if he was getting too old for this 'front line' stuff.

"My apologies, Colonel," Grisk said, to O'Neill's surprise, "I forgot that your team would not be as accustomed to travel on The Plate as are the residents of Barask. We should have stopped for rest sooner."

"Oh, we're tougher than we look, Commander. Well, they are, anyway." Perfect Jack. O'Neill brought the conversation back to more serious matters. "So, what's going on?"

"I've been advised that we should not proceed closer with the vehicles. The ship is beneath that rock face there," the Commander indicated the large hulk before them, "the crevice that runs beneath it has it's origins a little closer."

"Right. So what do you suggest?"

"Tell your team to disembark, and the five of us will go closer on foot."

"Okay. Equipment?"

"Not yet. I think visual assessment more prudent at this time." Grisk turned to head back to his own vehicle.

Turning back to SG-1, he saw his team looking at him expectantly.

"It's on foot from here on in, kids. Grisk wants us to take a look at the crevice, see what we're up against. Don't bring anything with you yet."

On the brief walk between their snow crawlers and the crevice, O'Neill tried once more to engage Grisk in conversation, without success. The Komekian soldier was still stonily silent, though he did answer a few basic questions, and seemed to be listening to O'Neill's comments about the weather, their good fortune in encountering no storms and his hope that it would continue until their mission here was accomplished. The Colonel thought it best to keep to neutral issues in the hope that banality in the present would lead to something more interesting in the future. How about: "He wasn't confident it would work.". Grisk was morose, and from Jack's observations his disposition didn't seem to extend only to SG-1. O'Neill wondered if he actually liked his job. Even despite his current open hostility, O'Neill could see that Grisk seemed far more at home here in the field than he did seated behind a desk. The Colonel wondered if he'd be as grouchy, were he ever to be confined to a desk job. His left knee twinged again, and O'Neill cut off that train of thought. It was a distressing idea to think that day mabe be upon him sooner than he'd like to think.

"Okay," came the voice of Daniel Jackson, as SG-1 came to a standstill at the edge of the crevice. "Well, I guess it's a good thing we thought to bring climbing gear."

The sight before them certainly wasn't encouraging. The great split in the ice fell with jagged accuracy to create a valley some hundred or so feet below where they stood. Rather than being smooth, the walls of crevice were shattered and cracked, sharp edges of varying sizes jutting out everywhere. Looking for the positives in the situation, Jack reasoned that at least there was plenty to hold on to. He was also aware that it meant a lot of ways for his team to injure themselves on their climb down. Being impaled on one of these shards of ice wouldn't be a good start to the working day.

"Ah, crap," he said aloud.

"The descent is possible, Colonel," said Grisk, "but as you can see it won't be easy, even with the right equipment. However, a team of scientists has already managed it, so I'm confident SG-1 will rise to the challenge."

"So what's the plan? You're going to bring everyone down here at once?"

"I think it would be better for just a small team to attempt the crevice at this time. SG-1, myself and just four others."

"Probably wise. Have you got any idea how deep that fresh snow is at the bottom? Or what's under it, for that matter?"

"It will possibly come to your thighs, Colonel – nothing to worry about, if you're sure-footed. As for what's beneath it, there are no fissures at the base of the crevice, but it will be uneven, though slightly less than the walls of the crevice. Care will nonetheless have to be taken – the valley inclines steeply before the craft can be reached."

"Right. This is just getting easier by the minute." O'Neill turned back to the watching members of his team. "Carter, Teal'c, go back and break out the rappelling harnesses. Daniel, you and I are going to check the lighting equipment. I think we're going to need it."

It took the small group almost an hour to reach the base of the crevice, and despite their tough clothing they all sustained scratches and scrapes of varying severity. The descent had been slow. The valley walls were jagged and cracked, as the ice had frozen into knives as sharp as those gracing the calves of Grisk's men. The Colonel was an experienced rappeller, but even he found it hard going. Thankfully, no one was badly hurt. They regrouped at the base of the crevice, resting briefly and uncomfortably in their cramped, uneven and cold surroundings. O'Neill was gratified to note that despite their lack of prolonged exposure to these types of extreme conditions, SG-1 were holding up just as well as Grisk's seasoned men.

"We will only be able to make the journey from here in single file," Grisk told him as the Commander dug out several heavy flashlights from his pack. "I will lead the way. I recommend that you use whatever lighting you have brought with you, Colonel. Once we move under the ship, there is little if no illumination, and the way is difficult."

"Don't you think it'd be better if I go first, Grisk? I mean, you can keep an eye on me just as well from behind, and you don't know what you're looking for, whereas I do."

"Oh, I don't think so Colonel. I'm not giving you the opportunity to pull any tricks out of your sleeves. I shall lead the way, and you will follow."

"Tricks? Grisk, what tricks could I possibly launch on you from down here?"

"You're an alien on my world, Colonel. How would I know?"

Jack sighed, waving a hand toward the dark passageway of ice that was before them. "Fine. Go right ahead. At least if you fall on your butt, I'll know where not to tread."

Grisk scowled once before moving forward cautiously over the uneven ground with O'Neill close behind him. The valley base, sheltered further down the crevise by the overhang of the Ha'tak, was not covered with fresh snow, so by watching their steps carefully the group was able to avoid the more obvious weak spots. The ice beneath their feet was deep and black, a frozen ocean of time for them to step upon.

All were silent as they made slow progress, moving into the shadow of the Ha'tak's ancient, frozen bulk. Pausing for a moment to shine his flashlight up, O'Neill's gaze was met by stalactites of ancient ice (icicles?), hanging from a roof of alien metal. It was an eerie journey down into the cold bowels of the mountain. The colossal weight above them pressed down with claustrophobic insistence.

"Nobody light a flare," Jack muttered aloud, breaking the silence and hearing his words echo around the enclosed space, "don't want to melt this thing."

"Oh, it'd take a lot more than a flare to thaw this ship out Colonel," came Carter's voice from somewhere from behind him. "This ship doesn't look like it's ever going to move. It's completely encased in ice – and this is just the exposed part of the hull. It's incredible."

"Incredible. Yes." O'Neill repeated, thinking that there were plenty of other, more inappropriate words that could have been used to describe it equally well. "Teal'c, come down here, would you? Tell me what I'm looking at."

Teal'c appeared at his side, moving so quickly that he caught Jack by surprise. For a man of Teal'c size, it was amazing just how silent he could be, even on terrain such as this. The ex-Jaffa looked up into the darkness, assessing their position in relation to the Ha'tak's systems.

"What is he looking for?" Grisk asked.

"These ships aren't designed to be entered on foot, but there are three small access hatches somewhere in this area of the hull. Teal'c's got a better chance of finding them than me."

"And why is that, exactly?"

"Oh, he used to serve on one of these things. Before we persuaded him to leave the dark side." O'Neill glanced at Grisk, assessing his reaction to this news. The commander was silent, assimilating what he had been told. Jack had no doubt that he'd come back with some terse comment later.

Teal'c had moved a little from the party in his search for a hatch, and now he turned back toward them. "O'Neill, I believe I have located one of the hatches."

"Really? Quick work, Teal'c." O'Neill stepped forward with Grisk on his heels all the way. Arriving at the warrior's side, the three men all stared up to where Teal'c's beam sliced through the darkness and illuminated part of the ship's hull. O'Neill cursed to himself as he located the object of their search, flickering in the illumination of Teal'c's flashlight.

"It will not be easy to access," Teal'c conceded.

"You can say that again."

The hatch was clearly covered in a heavy skin of ice about ten feet above where they stood on the icy floor of the crevice. Getting up to the hatch in the first place was going to be a task. Though the distance wasn't great, O'Neill didn't really relish the idea of trying to stab a hole through the ice and into the Ha'tak's skin in order to use their rappelling equipment. As it was, however, it didn't look as if they were going to have much of a choice.

"So who's it going to be, Grisk? Who's the lucky one who gets to climb up there and open it?"

Grisk smiled in grim satisfaction. "You keep telling me how well you know the workings of this vehicle, O'Neill. So go ahead. Feel free to open the hatch yourself. Show me how it's done."

O'Neill nodded knowingly. "Funny, I thought you were going to say something like that."

"Well I wouldn't want to disappoint you, Colonel."

"No, of course not." O'Neill turned to the rest of his team, who had crowded around to assess the climb for themselves. "I think I might need the grappling hook on this one."

"How are you going to get through the ice covering the hatch, Jack?" Daniel puffed hot breath onto his glasses to clear them of the ice that was trying to take hold on their surface. "And don't tell me you're going to shoot it." Daniel kept his head bowed innocently, ignoring the Colonel's glare.

"No, I'm not going to shoot it, Daniel," O'Neill said in disgust, turning away to look up at their destination once more. "I'm going to burn it."

"Burn it?" Daniel looked up, perplexed.

"Sure. Major, you must have a blow torch in that neat little tool pack of yours."

"I do, sir." Carter shrugged off her pack, kneeling down to open it. "You'll have to work fast though, Colonel. I've only got two spare gas canisters and I might need it once – if – we're inside."

O'Neill grinned. "I'm sure I'm capable of icing the ice, Carter."

"You're looking forward to this, aren't you?" Asked Daniel, replacing his glasses and pushing them up his nose.

"You know me so well, Daniel."

"Well, just be careful. There's nothing to secure a safety line to, and this ice won't be a nice thing to break a fall on." Daniel stamped a heavily booted foot on the floor of the crevice.

"Thanks for the encouragement," said O'Neill, turning his sarcasm into a serious inquiry as he turned to Teal'c, who was busy checking the single grappling hook and winch SG-1 had brought. "Everything okay?"

Teal'c nodded, "I see no reason why this hook should not find a purchase in these conditions, O'Neill."

"Okay then," muttered the colonel, climbing into the winch harness. "Let's give this a try."

It took two attempts for the pressure-propelled grappling hook to force it's way into the mothership's ice-encased hull, puncturing the metal with a distant scream and sending a shower of cold splinters on to the heads of the observers below. O'Neill tested the line as best he could before beginning the climb, winching himself up several inches at a time as Teal'c took up the slack.

It only took O'Neill a couple of minutes to reach the point where he could touch the hull, feeling the cold emanate from within. Using heavily-gloved hands the Colonel pulled himself to the surface, finding easy handholds on the whorled ice. He felt the harness tighten around him as he screwed the winch mechanism shut – the grappling hook seemed to be having mercifully little difficulty in holding him firm. Slowly, O'Neill moved the few short inches required for him to start work on the hatch.

Taking out Carter's blowtorch, he pulled down the goggles that she had insisted he wear as a precaution, dislodging several shards of ice from where they had been forming in his short hair. Turning the torch's flame to its full capacity, O'Neill realised that it was going to be a long job. The ice, melting as the flame ate into its ancient body, turned to water that ran down his wrist and soaked uncomfortably into his BDUs.

Ten minutes later, arms aching to burning point themselves, O'Neill exposed the last section of the hatch to the air. Below him, his team and Grisk's soldiers were still watching his progress intently, moving forward again from where they had retreated to in an attempt to avoid the melting ice as it fell.

"Teal'c," O'Neill called, looking down to where his friend waited. "Which way does this thing open?"

"Inwards, O'Neill. You must turn the wheel until it clicks, and push."

"That's it? No key? No combination lock? No trial of wits and endurance? No 'Only the penitent man shall pass', or something?"

There was a bemused pause from Teal'c before an answer came back, though O'Neill already knew what the essence of it would be.

"There are no trials, O'Neill. I am not sure of what you would need to be penitent. Turning the wheel will be task enough."

"Right." Leaning forward, O'Neill gripped the wheel, trying to turn it toward him. "Feels like the _Poseidon Adventure_," he muttered, muscles straining with effort as he tried to move the object. The wheel wouldn't shift, though the colonel tried several times, re-gripping at every fresh attempt. Eventually he gave up, letting his arms swing down as he looked at Teal'c, still standing expectantly below.

"It's not going to shift, Teal'c. Is it just rusted shut, or am I doing something wrong?"

"The mechanism is designed to be difficult to open. This may have been compounded by the Ha'tak's passage of time in the ice."

"Sweet. Well, I'm not going to give up yet. I think you're going to have to come up here and give me a hand, T."

Grisk stepped forward at O'Neill's suggestion, moving into the Colonel's line of sight. "I will come up, Colonel. I don't want two Earth soldiers to be the first to enter this ship, especially not alone."

O'Neill sighed, not bothering to keep his frustration from Grisk's ears. "Yeah, well, whatever Grisk. Just get a move on, my legs feel like they're about to snap off at the knees."

Grisk's troops had brought their own climbing equipment complete with an equivalent to O'Neill's grappling hook, and it wasn't long before the commander hung on the opposite side of the hatch. The task then became how best for the two men to co-ordinate their efforts. In the end, it became a matter of simply wrenching the hatch handle as hard as possible between them. Even with them both trying their hardest, it took several attempts before anything happened. Eventually though, they both felt the wheel give way, though only slightly.

"I think it's moving, Teal'c," O'Neill glanced at Grisk, the triumph of their joint effort momentarily cementing them as comrades in arms. "How far does it need to turn?"

"The wheel must revolve once in its entirety, O'Neill. Then you should be able to push the hatch up and into the Ha'tak."

"From my side of the hatch, Teal'c?"

"Yes, O'Neill."

O'Neill looked at Grisk again with a slight grin as they turned the hatch slowly into position. "Looks like I'll be the first one in then, Grisk. How about that."

"Oh, don't fear, Colonel. I'll be right behind you."

"Of course you will," muttered Jack, as he felt the wheel click into place. "Well, here goes, then."

Pushing upwards, the hatch moved into darkness.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	4. Chapter 4

**Preservation **

**Chapter Four**

O'Neill hauled himself slowly into the Ha'tak, icy limbs protesting all the way. There was no light within, no indication of what lay ahead, and nothing to get a grip on as the Colonel struggled to gain entry through the hatch. The air that hit O'Neill's face was stale and musty but still frigid. It rolled sluggishly over his skin, moving toward its first way out in centuries.

O'Neill pushed himself over to sit upright, reaching down to unfasten the spiked metal over-soles that had aided his descent into the crevice.

"O'Neill?" Grisk's voice floated up from below, echoing slightly through the passageway.

"Just catching my breath, Grisk."

There was a heaving, scrabbling sound as the Commander began to follow O'Neill's example. Jack didn't move from where he sat at the edge of the entry hatch, waiting for his breath to level out. His eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness, and a faint glow was reaching up out of the open hatch, though it wasn't strong enough to show the Colonel his surroundings. Reaching over his shoulder, O'Neill pulled his flashlight from where he'd secured it at the top of his pack. Turning it on, he winced in the sudden glare.

O'Neill only had a second to flick his torch around the darkened corners of a typical Ha'tak corridor before Grisk's hand appeared over the edge of the hatchway. Standing the flashlight down, O'Neill reached over to pull the alien up through the hole. Below Grisk's thrashing legs, O'Neill could see Carter, waiting in the snow to follow them.

Once Grisk was also seated beside the hatch, O'Neill grabbed the flashlight again, shouting down to the rest of his team.

"Come on up, Major. Can't say it's nice and cosy in here, but at least there's no snow."

Leaving Grisk to help Carter into the Ha'tak, O'Neill took a cautious few steps along the corridor, listening for any sounds other than those his companions were making in their efforts to climb through the hatch. His breath pooled in the air, a testimony to the fact that they were pretty much literally inside an ice cube, though he could detect a faint mildewy smell that presumably accompanied the annual thaw. The Ha'tak was silent, with no sign of any movement apart from the flurry of activity behind him.

O'Neill returned to his assembled team just as Grisk's last soldier arrived through the hatch. Crouching down next to Carter, the Colonel nodded at the entrance they'd just climbed through.

"Pretty tight, huh? You think the generators are going to fit through there?"

Carter grimaced. "I hope so, sir. Really don't like the idea of having to dismantle and then rebuild them in here."

O'Neill grinned, "I thought you liked a challenge."

"Yeah, well, it's going to be enough of a challenge getting them through that crevice in one piece, thanks very much, sir."

"My soldiers will help with that, Major," Grisk said to Carter, before turning his attention back to O'Neill. "Now we know that access to the ship is possible, we will move on with the mission."

"Right. Well, it would be smart to give this thing the once-over, just in case. It seems to me that nothing could have survived in here without life support for however long it's been down here, but it would pay to check. Teal'c and I can scout out the ship while Daniel and Carter can supervise getting those generators in here."

"No SG-1 team members are to go off without one of my troops, Colonel."

"Grisk," O'Neill sighed impatiently, "you've got to trust us. We haven't disappointed you so far, have we?"

"I'm not a man to let down my guard lightly, Colonel, I would have thought you'd have realised that by now. Trust has to be earned."

Jack gritted his teeth and bit back a sharp reply. "How do you suggest we proceed then? Bearing in mind the fact that your troops haven't got a clue where they're going or what they're looking for?"

Grisk glared at O'Neill briefly. "You, Colonel, will take one of my soldiers. Teal'c can take another. That way you can cover more ground without posing a threat."

O'Neill nodded, turning to Teal'c . "Teal'c, you take the lower decks. Scope out as much as you can, including the Death glider bays. See if there are any still birthed – that should give us some idea of whether any survivors got out of this thing, or if we need to start counting bodies. That's if we find any." O'Neill rubbed a hand over his eyes, "I'm going to check the bridge and the intermediate levels. Keep in regular contact."

"Grisk - are you going to stay here to keep an eye on Daniel and Carter, or are you coming with?"

"My soldiers are more than capable of escorting you, Colonel. I will remain here."

The soldier Grisk allocated to be Colonel O'Neill's companion was named Mikas, a tall and fair-haired youngster who appeared to be suppressing constant terror at his strange new surroundings. O'Neill was cautious, but not too worried. The ship had a smell of emptiness about it, of death. It felt deserted, left to rot alone in its sad resting place. It seemed, however, as he and his young companion traversed the maze of corridors on their way to the upper decks and bridge, that the Ha'tak hadn't suffered any internal damage at all. The flashlights of the two roaming soldiers flickered over bulkheads that hadn't been disturbed for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, and yet they were intact. But there was nothing else – no sign of life of any kind. The Ha'tak was a ghost ship, large, uninviting, and very empty.

Despite its icy surroundings, the ship seemed to have kept The Plate from gaining entry into its interior, which made O'Neill even more convinced that any damage inflicted by the crash had been merely superficial. Of course, if that was true then why hadn't the Ha'tak simply made any necessary repairs and moved off again? Nevertheless, it also meant that salvage might be possible, if only they could figure out how to get the thing out of the ice.

Mikas and O'Neill were working on the final door that separated them from the bridge when Teal'c's voice crackled over the radio.

"_O'Neill_."

"Go ahead, Teal'c. Found something?"

"_We are in the Death glider bay. It would appear that none have been removed_."

O'Neill paused in his efforts with a frown. "What, they're all there?"

"_Indeed."_

"Okay. You see any sign of bodies on your way there?"

"_None, O'Neill_."

"No, we haven't either. Which I don't like. Teal'c, these things have escape pods, right?"

There was a pause. "_Yes_."

"Right. I want you to make your way there. Proceed with caution, just in case, by some miracle, there are survivors lurking somewhere in this thing. We're going to enter the bridge, and I'll contact you shortly." Might Jack ask Teal'c if it would be possible for Jaffa to survive this long?

"_Understood, O'Neill_."

O'Neill turned his attention back to Mikas to find the Komekian waiting for him to finish.

"Grisk doing ok?" O'Neill asked innocently.

"He… wishes us to finish with our task and return. It seems he is eager to move. Commander Grisk would like to investigate the ship himself instead of sitting around listening to stories."

"Well then," O'Neill grinned again, "Let's get this door open and see if we can't grant Grisk's request, huh?"

The door to the Ha'tak's bridge came open reluctantly, grinding open slowly and expelling bad air from within. It was colder, too, than other areas of the Ha'tak had been. O'Neill, wary of what lay within, signalled Mikas to stand back. Standing with his weapon at the ready, the Colonel flicked his flashlight within, the beam slicing into thick dark air. There was no movement, no response.

Moving in, both soldiers kept their hands against their weapons, but there was no sign of life or light. The room as was empty as the rest of the ship had been. O'Neill moved toward the small view screen that represented the front of the ship, and that would have, had the Ha'tak been operational, provided the only outlook into space. The beam from the Colonel's flashlight roamed across the view port, reflecting only the heavy grey weight of ice. With its forceshield down, the open space had become open to all the elements of the icecaps outside. A smattering of icy crystals had spilled through the opening, scattering across panels of dead controls.

"Well, at least we know why it's so damn cold in here," O'Neill muttered, watching his breath paint traces in the air as he spoke.

As he turned back toward Mikas, who was tentatively exploring the other side of the room, the beam of O'Neill's flashlight fell on a figure seated in the command chair.

"Holy shit." O'Neill was already going for his P-90 when he realised that this Jaffa wouldn't be going anywhere fast.

"Colonel O'Neill?" Mikas voice trembled out of the shadows as O'Neill grasped his flashlight once more and moved closer to the corpse.

"It's okay, Mikas, I just got a little over excited. Hey, you can meet your first Jaffa." He waved the young soldier over. "They've usually got a little more meat on their bones, though…looks like this one's had a brush with Atkins."

The body was severely decayed but still recognisable. As he poked at it experimentally with his weapon, the Colonel's radio crackled again. Mikas, who had edged closer at O'Neill's admonition, jumped.

"He's definitely dead, you know," O'Neill told him with amusement, before speaking into his radio. "O'Neill. Go."

"_O'Neill, it is Teal'c. We have investigated the escape pods_."

"Find anything?"

"_Several contain the bodies of dead Jaffa, O'Neill. It seems that they were preparing to launch the pods when the Ha'tak impacted on Komek. No pods are missing_."

"Okay. We've got a dead one here, too."

"_You have not discovered any Goa'uld remains?_"

"Not so far, Teal'c. Maybe there were none on board."

"_Perhaps. Do you have further instructions, O'Neill_?"

"Do a body count, Teal'c, and then head back to Carter and Daniel. We're just going to check out a couple of things up here, and we'll be down to join you."

"_Very well, O'Neill._"

"Colonel?" Mikas spoke as O'Neill replaced his radio. He had moved away from the corpse again, and had turned off his flashlight.

"What is it?" The Colonel moved his flashlight toward his alien companion to find him pointing at something.

"Look, over there. No," Mikas said quickly, as O'Neill went to change the direction of his beam, "not with the light. Turn it off."

Glancing at the soldier with a frown, O'Neill thumbed the switch on his flashlight, plunging them both into utter darkness. Wary, the Colonel grasped his P-90 again as he waited for his eyes to adjust slightly to the darkness.

And then he saw it. Faintly, as if his eye was deceiving him.

"What the hell is that?"

"I do not know, Colonel. I was hoping you would."

It was a red light, blinking intermittently. It was faint, but it was definitely there. Switching his flashlight on once more, O'Neill moved cautiously toward it, eventually locating it on the bank of a control panel. The light flashed again, confirming its presence.

"How can that be?" O'Neill grabbed his radio. "Carter?"

"_Here, Colonel_."

"I've got a light."

"_Sir_?"

"A light. On the Bridge. On a control panel."

There was a pause. "_Sir, that's not possible_."

"Kind of what I was thinking, Carter. Care to explain?" He could hear shuffling, the sound of her standing up.

"_Sir, there would have to be a power source of some kind, still active. After all this time? Even if the Ha'tak had only been here for a hundred years - I really don't think it's possible_."

"Well, I'm telling you it's possible, Major, because I'm damn well standing here looking at a flashing light."

"_Yes, Colonel, but_ -"

"Get up here. Bring Grisk and Daniel."

"_Yes sir_."

"Teal'c, are you there?"

"_I am, O'Neill_."

"When you're done where you are, come straight to the bridge."

* * *

By the time that they could hear the rest of their team's footsteps echoing up the corridor, O'Neill and his young companion had searched the rest of the Bridge but had failed to find any more lights. Or, for that matter, anything else to suggest activity apart from the one red indicator that continued to blink on and off.

Major Carter was the first to enter the room, with Grisk close on her heels. Behind them, Daniel was helping the two Komekian soldiers haul one of the generators they had managed to bring into the ship.

"Colonel," Carter nodded to O'Neill. "Thought we'd kill two birds with one stone and bring one of these up now, sir."

"Good thinking, Major. So what do you think so far, Grisk? Gonna pick up one of these at the next roadshow?"

Grisk raised one eyebrow, clearly not understanding O'Neill's reference. He lifted his flashlight and moved it around the cavernous space of the bridge.

"This is certainly an interesting vessel. I'm also interested to note how well you and your team know their way around it, considering you've told me ships such as these belong to a deadly enemy of yours."

"Well, we've had a few opportunities to see them at close quarters. Usually when the sons of bitches are trying to hunt us down… that sort of thing."

Grisk gave O'Neill another hard stare, nodding thoughtfully. O'Neill, tired of the Commander's assessing glares and lack of trust, turned to Carter.

"Major, why don't you get some lights hooked up in here? Then we can investigate this mystery a little more easily."

Carter nodded, turning to the generator as she shrugged off one of the equipment packs they had brought.

"Do you need help doing that?"

"No sir, it should be a piece of cake."

Daniel moved toward them, stumbling slightly in the cluttered dark. "Jack?"

"Over here, Daniel."

"I was wondering – did you find anything to indicate which Goa'uld might have owned this vessel?"

"Nope. And here was I hoping there'd be a nice easy 'This Ha'tak belongs to…' sticker on the door." O'Neill angled his head, indicating the command seat on which the prone skeleton of the Jaffa lay. "You might want to take a look at the body we found. I didn't recognise the armour. Be warned, though, it's not pretty. Doesn't smell too good, either."

"No, I… got that. Over there?"

The Colonel steered Jackson toward the Jaffa's corpse, which still hung in a limp mess of flesh and crumbling cloth from the chair in which O'Neill had first found it. The archaeologist moved closer, apparently fascinated by the remains.

"Wow. I mean, look at him – he's in such good condition."

"Good condition?" O'Neill repeated incredulously. "Daniel, it's a mouldering corpse."

"Yes, but the state of preservation is still remarkable considering how damp it is in here. The annual thaw could have done a lot more damage, particularly considering the open viewport. And look at the armour – it's almost completely intact."

"No helmet though, which is a bummer," O'Neill observed, holding his light up so that Daniel could put his own down and examine the Jaffa more closely. "Anyone you recognise?"

Daniel knelt in front of the corpse, lightly running his fingers over one of the armoured cuffs. Flakes of dust and other particles that O'Neill didn't want to contemplate floated into the stale air in the wake of the archaeologist's fingers.

"There seems to be a pattern here – hieroglyphs, maybe. I just can't quite make it out. Jack, can you bring the light closer?"

O'Neill leant closer to the body, nose wrinkling in distaste. That thaw certainly had a lot to answer for. Beside him, he heard Grisk's footsteps and turned to smile genially at the Commander.

"Grisk. Come here and take a look at this. Might open your eyes for you…"

The Commander leant over as O'Neill shifted Daniel out of the way so that Grisk could get a closer look at the corpse. Moving his flashlight from the skeletal features of the Jaffa's skull, O'Neill showed the Komekian commander what had once been residing in the live man's stomach. Snake-like, coiled within it's pouch, the Jaffa's primta had died with him in the crash and now lay entombed forever within its guardian's body.

"How the mighty have fallen," Daniel muttered with irony.

Grisk had paled slightly at the sight, and moved back with a harsh swallow. "This… person was one of these Goa'uld's you spoke of at Barask?"

"No, this guy was a Jaffa."

"Then what's that… thing?"

"It's an immature Goa'uld. Or at least, what's left of one." Daniel leant forward again toward the body. "Over the centuries the Goa'uld have made the Jaffa dependent on them – they serve them as gods, and carry the young of the Goa'uld in pouches within their stomach cavities."

"Kind of like Kangaroos, but with less of the bouncing," O'Neill added helpfully.

"Kangaroos?" Grisk asked faintly, eyes still drawn to the sight of the minute skeleton before him.

"Never mind."

"You're telling me the Goa'uld grow their young inside other beings?"

"That's right."

"And yet these… Jaffa serve them as gods? How can this be? And how can a being live with another inside it?"

"It has evolved into a symbiotic relationship," said Jackson, who had taken a small brush from his pack and was carefully removing layers of fine debris from the dead Jaffa's armour. "The Jaffa are really no more than slaves, but the Goa'uld trust them – mainly because the Jaffa is completely dependent on it's symbiote, without which they have no immune system and will therefore die…"

O'Neill noticed Grisk's eyes glazing over a second before the sound of footsteps began to echo in the distance.

"That'll be Teal'c," said O'Neill in conversational tones. "He used to be a Jaffa, but we managed to get rid of Junior for him last year."

"Junior?" Grisk, seemingly still a little shaken, had already tightened a hand on his weapon. He nodded to two of his men, who took up positions either side of the door.

"It was my pet name for Teal'c's symbiote. You know, I kind of thought I could teach the little guy something, but you know how kids are these days…"

O'Neill could see Grisk getting more and more agitated as the footsteps moved closer. There were two pairs, moving in a regimented march toward their position.

"Grisk, relax. It's Teal'c, I swear. I can tell those size twelves anywhere, believe me."

The growling roar of the generator shattered the muted echoes of the Bridge as Carter's floodlights burst into life. A moment later, Teal'c and his Komekian escort appeared in the doorway. Blinking, blinded by the sudden light after hours of gloom and jumpy from the unnerving discoveries of the past few days, the soldiers Grisk had stationed by the entrance raised their weapons.

"Whoa, whoa, guys," O'Neill moved toward the fourth member of his team, who had also raised his P-90. "We're all friends here, remember?"

"Stand down, men," Grisk's voice echoed across the Bridge.

With proper lighting up and running, tensions eased a little. The Komekians regrouped while the two soldiers that had accompanied O'Neill and Teal'c gave their respective reports to Grisk and O'Neill called his own team into a swift de-brief. Since Daniel had accompanied Carter in the recovery of the generators, O'Neill left him to find out something of worth from the Jaffa's corpse while he talked over SG-1's current situation with the rest of his team.

"What was the body count, Teal'c?"

"I counted eleven corpses in the pods, O'Neill. We encountered no others."

"Eleven? Well, there's one here, too. Is that enough to crew a Ha'tak, or should we be looking for more bodies?"

"Apophis was able to run Cronus' mothership with twelve Jaffa, Colonel."

"That is indeed so, Major Carter. However, it is usual to have a larger complement than that – sometimes including human slaves."

"Well then, I guess we need to keep our eyes open. But I didn't see anything anywhere other than here on the Bridge to indicate that there was life on this ship."

"Nor I, O'Neill."

"Sir, I think it's safe to say that there's nothing alive on this ship. I don't see how anything – even if they had survived the crash – could have lived so long down here."

"Well, I for one didn't see a sarcophagus anywhere, so that's a good sign. How about you, Teal'c?"

"I saw nothing to indicate a Goa'uld presence, O'Neill, even within the escape pods. I concur with Major Carter. I do not think we need to fear survivors in these circumstances."

"Okay. Well, I still want you to proceed with caution. This place – well, it's just giving me the creeps. Feels dead down here."

Behind them, Daniel stood up. "Uh, guys? There don't seem to be any identifying marks on this Jaffa. Teal'c, do you want to take a look?"

Teal'c moved toward the body, staring at it closely for a few minutes before straightening again and shaking his head. "I am sorry, Daniel Jackson, but I do not see anything with which we could identify this body, or the Goa'uld this Jaffa served."

"Right. Didn't think so. Jack, I need to have a look around. There must be something somewhere on board that can tell me more about who owned this ship."

"Okay. Well, I want Carter to check out this flashing doohickey in the corner, but you two should investigate. As long as I can clear it with our gracious host, of course." The Colonel turned to see Grisk still in conversation with his men. "He'll probably want to send another one of his men along with you, but so far they don't seem to be too much trouble. I want to know anything you can tell me about where this bird came from and how it ended up here, Daniel. Something's just not right about this whole thing."

O'Neill called the Commander over as soon as it was clear that his own debrief was over. The Colonel tried to detect some change in Grisk's stony attitude toward SG-1, but failed. The Commander clearly hadn't been swayed by the reports his men had given him, or by the time he'd spent with Carter and Daniel. O'Neill sighed inwardly, reminding himself that as long as they played everything above board, Grisk wouldn't be able to drum up a reason to send them back to Earth with nothing. The man still had superiors to report to, after all.

"Grisk. Happy with what you've heard so far?"

"Not really, Colonel. I am still of the mind that you all know your way around this so-called enemy ship a little too well. And you say a member of your team," here Grisk flicked his square chin slightly toward Teal'c, "used to be one of your enemies indentured slaves, yet he no longer carries the method of his enslavement with him. Rather convenient, that."

"You know what? Someday, Grisk, I'm going to sit you down and let you read all our mission reports. Maybe even show you a few of Daniel's home movies. I think that'd convince you better than I could."

"Perhaps, Colonel. If our planets' alliance lasts that long."

"Yeah well. I'm hopeful on that score. Anyway," O'Neill waved at Daniel and Teal'c, "these guys need to go and have a snoop around to see what they can find out about who owned this thing and how it ended up under your ice cap."

"What about yourself and Major Carter?"

"Carter needs to take a look at this apparently active control console, and providing there's nothing too worrying about it, I need her to start working out where this thing is damaged."

"Very well. Teal'c and Jackson can take Detar, as long as they keep me informed of their movements. I don't want any of you moving around this ship alone."

"Okay," O'Neill quelled a flash of irritation. "So what, the rest of you are just going to sit around and watch Carter work? Because that's usually my job. I do it well." He paused. "It's a matter of pride, in fact."

"Mikas, Tomit and Ganeer," Grisk indicated his three remaining soldiers, "will stay here to oversee your actions. I am going to begin to investigate the ship alone."

O'Neill glanced at Teal'c. "Uh – don't you think it would be better to take someone with you, Grisk? You don't know your way around, after all."

"You don't seem to have encountered many problems in that department. I am sure I will find it similarly easy to find my way around."

"You're not even going to take one of your own men?"

Grisk's lip curled into a sneer. "What is this, Colonel? Concern for my wellbeing? I assure you, I will be fine. I want the chance to look around without your influence. I'm perfectly capable of doing so without the need of a nursemaid."

O'Neill shrugged, "Well, just don't touch anything. Especially not if it's glowing." Grisk ignored O'Neill's last comment, turning to talk to his team once more. The Colonel looked at Daniel. "The same goes for you, Daniel. No touching. I mean it. I don't want to spend eternity in this thing, you hear?"

"Jack, give me some credit." Jackson opened his pack again and took out his digital camcorder. "Anyway, I've got this. Probably won't even need to touch anything."

"_Probably?_"

"We will keep in regular radio contact, O'Neill. All will be well."

"Okay. Well, let us know what you find. Just to let you know, finds I'm hoping for include: a shattered Coptic jar containing a snaky skeleton; a human skeleton containing a snaky skeleton; a snaky skeleton, period. All of the above can be listed under the acceptable finds category."

"Jack, I don't think we need to worry about finding a Goa'uld, as a skeleton or otherwise. I'm willing to bet that there wasn't even one aboard."

"Daniel. In the interests of a peaceful life – and knowing that you generally lose anything you put money on – just this once I'm not going to take you up on that offer. Just keep yourselves alert, and bring me back some good news. That's all I ask."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	5. Chapter 5

**Preservation**

**A/N: **There will be more Sam, I promise! And more Daniel and Teal'c, too... But you might have all got bored and given up by then.

**Chapter 5**

Grisk moved through the Ha'tak's dark corridors with perfect stealth, feeling more alive than he had since arriving on The Plate. Grisk was a good soldier no matter where he was, but here he could excel. Here he could move in the shadows of danger, as unheard and as unseen as the ghosts that haunted this ship. Here, Grisk could feel as if he were really using his exceptional skills, instead of keeping them under a tight lock and key back at Barask. Holed up in that lonely ice station, on a cake of ice where little happened apart from snow and more snow, the Commander felt wasted. Here, inside a structure as mysterious as time itself, he felt alive.

He was wearing a radio, of course, so he wasn't fully able to escape the trappings of command. Grisk wondered briefly if he had been right to leave his young soldiers where they could be influenced by the alien Colonel. They were still impressionable, and the Commander couldn't deny that O'Neill had a strength of character and resolve that may be able to penetrate their basic training, and had even come close to affecting Grisk himself. So far, however, Grisk had yet to find a sufficient reason for packing the Colonel and his team members back to their own world.

A flash of anger rolled in his gut. SG-1 shouldn't be here, interfering with this discovery. It should be Komekian scientists working on the Bridge, not Major Carter. It should be Komekian translators puzzling over any languages they might find on board, not Doctor Daniel Jackson.

Perhaps the Colonel would slip-up back there on the Bridge. Perhaps he would show his true colours at last and try to incite Grisk's troops to treason. That would certainly give the Commander due reason to send them back to their 'SGC'. Maybe he would even make SG-1 an example, string them up and leave them to the elements, a message for any that would dare visit his planet through the Stargate again.

But for now, Grisk sank himself in the present, and listened for signs of life as he moved through the silent, brooding ship.

* * *

O'Neill was bored, and O'Neill was cold. He also envied Grisk, who was out there somewhere wandering around discovering things. Not that the Colonel had a particular hankering to be out walking the endless corridors of a cold, dead, dark Ha'tak, but at this point it beat having nothing to do but sit and watch Carter pull yet another crystal out of the offending console. She had been there an hour already, and had apparently turned up nothing other than dust. Just because he usually ended up watching her work didn't mean to say he liked it. Maybe he should have left Teal'c with the Major and gone exploring with Daniel instead…

"So, Carter, what have you got?" The Colonel called from where he sat on the floor of the Ha'tak's bridge, his back against one of the consoles and his cap pulled down over his eyes to dim the fierce glare of the floodlights.

"Well, sir, I'm trying to determine whether this console is isolated from the Ha'tak's main powersource, or whether it's all part of the same unit." Carter was in the corner, working beneath the console that housed the still-flashing light. She had opened two panels, and a host of crystals now lay in what looked to O'Neill like hopeless piles around her knees.

"Right. And, pray, what would that tell us?"

The Major pulled her head out of the console's belly and turned to him, sitting for a moment as he was. She looked weary, and rubbed a hand through her short blonde hair.

"Well, Colonel, as far as I'm concerned, that light should have died long ago. Centuries. The only thing that I can think is that this particular console has its own source of power, and that by some fluke it has managed to maintain that one light."

"That's some battery."

"Yes sir."

"If it is isolated from the rest of the ship, do I need to worry about what it is? Why they put a separate power source in that particular console?"

"To me it doesn't look like anything much, Colonel. I don't think the fact that it's still going is part of any Goa'uld design – there's no reason why there would be a facility built in to keep one console going indefinitely and not the others. I think, like I said, it's just a fluke."

"I don't like flukes."

"I know, sir."

"Too unpredictable."

"Yes, sir."

"And what if it is connected to the main power source?" O'Neill stood, stretching his chilled muscles, "what then?"

"That could be good news."

O'Neill stopped stretching and raised an eyebrow.

"Good news, eh? That sounds…good. Now tell me how good."

"If this console is connected to the ship's reactor, then the fact that it's still working could mean that the Ha'tak's internal systems are not as damaged as I first feared they would be. If the main systems are still connected enough after all this time to be powering that one tiny corner of the ship, then it could make salvage a significantly more viable proposition."

O'Neill moved, bending down to clap his second in command on the back. "Now, _that's_ the sort of news I'd like to hear more often. Not, 'sir, we've walked into a hostile situation,' or 'Colonel, this world is inhabited by the Goa'uld'. This is definitely good, Carter."

"Wait – sir. Even if this console does turn out to be linked to the main reactor – and I'm not in any way saying it is, it's still not going to be plain sailing. And even if this console is connected to the reactor, that doesn't mean that the reactor itself is undamaged. I think it's much more likely that this is running on a sub-system, perhaps life-support. I'm still inclined to think that this is just an isolated spike in the power grid that has somehow managed to keep running. And anyway, we'll still have to figure how to get this thing out of this ice cap in the first place. "

"Don't spoil it, Carter. I was just beginning to think that maybe this trip wasn't a big, cold waste of time after all. Think on the bright side."

"But sir –"

"Ah! What did I say?" O'Neill held up a hand until Carter subsided. She still looked weary. "Coffee?" He asked, after a moment. "I was thinking of trying to get the Three Amigos over there to be a bit more friendly. Coffee may well be the answer."

The Major smiled before retreating once again to her mess of Goa'uld technology. "Coffee would be great, sir."

* * *

There were many parts of his job that could qualify as amazing, but for Doctor Daniel Jackson, moments like this had to rank among the very highest. The more the archaeologist thought about the path that he was slowly treading beside Teal'c through another dim, cold corridor of the Ha'tak, the more absorbed he became in the prospect discovering the history behind this downed ship.

It wasn't just the idea of uncovering something before anyone else managed to, or the possibility that he may be on the brink of discovering a chapter in Goa'uld history that even the other system lords had forgotten. It was the unknown stories that the archaeologist could feel floating on an invisible breeze around him, the sheer weight of history this downed vessel held within its ice-locked hull.

One of the first lessons that Daniel had ever learnt about history was a fact repeated over and over by his parents "Daniel," either or both of them would remind him, "The thing about history is, there is no such thing as history." Any question he asked them, about whatever project they were working on at the time, or whatever childish theory he postulated would be preceded by this tantalising statement.

This conundrum puzzled the young Daniel throughout his childhood. It even survived the life shattering loss of his parents. In his early teenage years, even as his unmistakable brilliance had begun to shine, Daniel had thought he was beginning to understand. History did not exist, because it was developed from a thread of facts that were forever incomplete. What primary sources existed were fragmented and out of context – orphaned in the grand scheme of a history that was eternally lost to the creeping tide of earth and time.

Daniel, the Daniel that had existed before Abydos, had thought he understood. He had thought he'd grasped the meaning of those words that still echoed in his memories like snapshots of his early life. And then he had met Catharine, and Jack, and Sha're, and Teal'c – and the archaeologist had realised that everything he had understood before that moment was a shadow in the past of a story that could not be consigned to history because it was living still. It was an epiphany that had remained sparking in his heart throughout every trip Daniel took through the Stargate, but it was never truer than in a moment such as this. Because now – right now – Daniel was part of the history he was also responsible for uncovering. He was like Howard Carter, in that moment when the stone cracked and laid open Tutankahmen's tomb to human eyes for the first time in 2,000 years and more…

It made him feel alive. It made his life mean something in a way it never could have done had he never met the rest of SG-1.

Beside him, Daniel felt Teal'c change his pace a moment before his flashlight bobbed in another direction. Detar had slowed too, quickly wary of what his two charges may be planning. Daniel saw the young man's hand stray toward his weapon, but Teal'c ignored him and spoke directly to the archaeologist.

"Daniel Jackson, I believe there is an opening here."

Daniel moved his own light to follow his companion, and realised that Teal'c was right. They had drawn abreast of an open doorway into a room swathed in darkness. With a mirrored caution born of years in battle, the two men moved closer, one each side of the door. Detar was left to choose his position for himself, and Jackson was unsurprised that the Komekian soldier chose to stand loosely behind Teal'c. The archaeologist had seen some inkling of the respect growing in Detar for the warrior.

The room was empty, and comparatively small. The only entrance was the one in which the two members of SG-1 stood. Curiosity overcame his caution, and Daniel entered.

"This is most likely used for storage, Daniel Jackson. I am not sure we will find anything of interest here." Teal'c moved his own flashlight around the empty corners of the room.

But Daniel didn't want to leave yet. Moving closer to one of the walls, he lifted his light so that it played across the patterns that ran vertically down the surface. He turned to Teal'c, tapping his finger against the wall.

"Glyphs! Teal'c, these are hieroglyphs. They're on every wall! Is that normal?"

Teal'c crossed the short distance to the remaining walls, examining each before turning back to the archaeologist.

"Curious. This is not what I would expect to find."

"What the hell is this, Teal'c? Why would they inscribe on the walls?"

"I have no answer, Daniel Jackson."

"Okay… okay, well, let's see what was so important that they had to write it down on whatever they had, shall we?" He dumped his pach on the floor and pulled out a notebook and pencil. Suddenly remembering their guard, Daniel turned to Detar. "Here, make yourself useful. You can hold the flashlight."

* * *

O'Neill took a glum mouthfulof his coffee as he left their three guards and carried Carter's mug toward where she was still fiddling beneath the lighted console.

"Carter. Coffee's up."

"Ah, thanks, sir." The Major emerged, even dustier now, and glanced toward the area where O'Neill had set his cooking lamp. "They didn't mind you lighting up, then."

"Miserable lot," O'Neill muttered darkly. "They won't even pass the time of day with me. Grisk has a lot to answer for."

Carter raised an eyebrow, "Not so much the Three Amigos as the Three Stooges, huh?"

"Yeah well, I never liked that film anyway. Showed me just how far Steve Martin had sold out, if you ask me."

"Sir," Carter smiled into her coffee. "I've been thinking."

"Now there's a shocker."

Carter flicked him a half-amused, half-irritated glance and carried on, fingers drumming thoughtfully against her tin mug.

"I've been looking at the ship's crystals, and they seem surprisingly intact. There doesn't seem to be any corrosion. I'd like to try something," she waved a hand at the dismembered console. "I think there may be a good chance that there's enough juice in the sub-systems to get life support up and running, at least in a limited capacity."

"Wait a minute – I thought we'd agreed that it was just a fluke that a light managed to last this long? What makes you think any of the rest of this thing is still working?"

"Well, I don't, sir – not for sure. That's why I'd like to give it a try. It won't take much for me to link the life support systems into the cables from this console. If I link it in and it powers up, then we know it's working."

"You're going to hot-wire a Ha'tak?"

She grinned. "Something like that, sir."

O'Neill frowned. "Forgive me if I sound foolish, Carter, but it doesn't seem like a particularly sensible idea to be firing up a space ship that happens to be buried in a ton of ice. Wouldn't that be like lighting a match under an ice cube, or something?"

"No sir," Carter said, shaking her head. "If we were to power up the reactor core, that would be different – but this is just a sub systemtoward. The power won't even penetrate the hull. It's completely safe."

The Colonel nodded thoughtfully. You're sure?"

"Yes sir." Carter looked over her shoulder toward the console she'd been struggling under for an hour and a half. "It may not even work, Colonel – maybe that light is just a fluke. But at least we'll know. And if it does work, then we'll have life support – heat and light."

"Tell me there's a failsafe, Carter."

"Sir, if we don't like what it's doing, we just pull the plug."

O'Neill considered the suggestion for a few more moments. "Okay. Go ahead and give it a try, Carter – but at the slightest sign of trouble, be ready to kill it."

"Yes, sir."

"I'd better inform Grisk. How long before you're ready to give this thing a try?"

"Another thirty minutes or so, I think Colonel. I've got to find the right interface and connect the –"

O'Neill cut her off, "Just let me know if you need help. I'm going to go explain to the triplets."

* * *

Daniel rubbed at a hieroglyph and looked down at his notepad. This one resembled another that he'd taken a note of earlier. It had been repeated at least four times besides that, too. It seemed to be the depiction of a human body, apparently male, with an elongated head and large jaws, seemingly animal in design. Something, in fact, akin to the Nile crocodiles that Daniel had had to contend with on more than one visit to Egypt. If it was a hieroglyph indicating a half-man half-crocodile, however, it was a highly stylised pictorial description. Moreover, two of the repeated motifs bore a dot situated above the creature's head, almost like a smaller version of the Egyptian sun-disk.

Jackson was still frowning down at this puzzle when a voice spoke at his shoulder, startling him. He turned to find Detar staring at Daniel's sketches with interest.

"What is that?"

Daniel glanced around in surprise. "I thought Grisk told you not to speak to us unless absolutely necessary?"

"I have spent much time observing you both, and I don't believe you or Teal'c to be our adversaries." Detar nodded again at Daniel's copies of the images from the wall. "So, tell me. Do you know what they are? I've looked at the walls, and there are many variations of this same design."

The archaeologist was again surprised. He had been so engrossed in his task that he hadn't paid attention to the actions of their hitherto silent guard.

"To answer your question, I'm not entirely sure what it is as a whole, though I think I know what it's referring to."

Teal'c approached from the other side of the room. "Have you made a discovery, Daniel Jackson?"

"Maybe, Teal'c." Daniel offered up his pad of sketches. "This character, or variations of it, are repeated through the room."

"I too have noticed this pattern. I have in fact encountered such inscriptions before. It is the Goa'uld symbol for Sobek."

"Right! Exactly what I thought. I've seen depictions of this very sort back in Egypt. The Crocodile god."

"This is the symbol of a god of your planet?" Detar asked.

"Sobek was a false god," Teal'c stated firmly, "who at one time enslaved the Tau'ri. He is dead."

Seeing that the young soldier didn't understand, Daniel stepped in and took up the explanation. "He was worshiped as a god by the early people of my planet, in an place called Egypt. He took the form of a crocodile, the creature of greatest strength in that region, a creature both feared and revered by the people."

"But he is dead?"

"Yes. We came into contact with some of his would-be allies some years ago. Sobek tried to join forces with two other so-called 'gods', but they betrayed him." Daniel walked back to the wall, deep in thought, and gazed once more at the 'glyphs that glittered in his torchlight. "The crocodile god was destroyed by the Goa'uld system lords Bastet and Kali the Destroyer – they made a pact with him, and then at the feast celebrating their alliance, he was executed."

"Bastet is said to have the head of Sobek still, adorning her palace," concluded Teal'c. "It is a matter of great pride for her."

"These gods of yours sound barbaric."

"They are no gods of mine." Teal'c allowed a flash of rare emotion to cross his face before turning toward Daniel, who was still studying the wall. "If this Ha'tak belongs to Sobek, then we have no need to be concerned, Daniel Jackson. He is dead."

"Right." The archaeologist turned, smiling at his companions. "Almost as good as a 'snaky skeleton'. Jack will be pleased. But I still have questions."

"Such as?"

Daniel shrugged, panning his hands wide, "Well, Teal'c – we still don't know how this ship ended up here, or even when, for that matter."

"I am not sure that such details are of tactical consequence. We have the knowledge that the Goa'uld that owned this vessel is dead. The Tau'ri therefore need not to fear either that a Goa'uld still rests within it, or that any attempt to salvage the Ha'tak will be noticed by a system lord. Therefore, from a tactical viewpoint, we have discovered all that we need to know about this ship."

"But it's not enough for me, Teal'c. This is an important piece of Goa'uld history, and I need to find out more about it."

"I was not aware that Goa'uld history was important, Daniel Jackson. It is best forgotten."

"We can't just forget the history of the Goa'uld, Teal'c. We have to learn it, and learn from it. 'Those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it' – Jack would say that it's a cliché, but it's true. The more we know about the past of the Goa'uld, the more we can control their future."

There was a brief pause as Teal'c considered the archaeologist's words.

"I am not convinced of your argument, Daniel Jackson."

"Well, indulge me for a few minutes, would you, Teal'c? I just want a chance to read through this record properly. It's definitely a record of the ship's final journey. The first panel I looked was telling about the Ha'tak's departure from Earth…"

Their discussion was interrupted by the crackle of Daniel's radio as Jack's voice spilled into the gloom with tinny familiarity.

"_Daniel?_"

Daniel reached for his radio. "Go ahead, Jack."

_"Any luck?"_

"YEs, actually." Daniel glanced around the room again, the success of discovery animating his features. "We think we know who owned the ship – there's a sort of diary room here, covered in inscriptions that seem to explain the history of the ship. It's quite remarkable, something I've never come across before. I'm hoping –"

"_Daniel. You can fill in the details later. Just tell me if there's anything I should be worrying about, will you_?"

"There's nothing to worry about, Jack. Less than nothing, in fact. As far as we can tell, this ship belonged to Sobek."

There was a pause before the line clicked again and O'Neill's voice asked, "_Sobek? He's one of the dead ones, right?_"

"Exactly."

"_Good work, Daniel. And stand by – Carter thinks she's got this thing rigged for life support. If she's got it right, you'll have light in about five minutes_."

"Okay, Jack. That'll be great, actually, because I want to record what's in this room, and the camcorder really doesn't take well to this gloom…."

"_Copy that, Daniel. We're doing our best. O'Neill out_."

* * *

Grisk stopped for a moment, resting a hand against the icy cold wall of the corridor. He had been walking the pathways of this vessel for almost two hours, and had discovered nothing that he considered to be remotely interesting. Everywhere was dead opulence and frigid decay. To his untrained eye, nothing of worth remained. The soldier was growing weary, and with his mounting exhaustion came irritation. Whatever the visitors from Earth wanted, it couldn't be this vessel. The further Grisk ventured into the Ha'tak, the more he became convinced that this wreck was not the reason SG-1 were on Komek. They were a scouting party, surely. They knew their way around this vessel too well for it to be an enemy ship. Grisk's superiors were being played for fools, blinded to the truth by the thought of some intangible gain they imagined existed in the hands of these foreigners.

The soldier began to walk again, anger boiling in his veins once more. SG-1 were here to seek out Komek's weaknesses – perhaps they were planning to launch their main attack once they had established a foothold within the Ha'tak.

His radio burst into life, and a disembodied voice that Grisk was able to identify as Ganeer, the security Lieutenant monitoring O'Neill, burst into the silence of his thoughts.

"_Commander Grisk, do you hear me?"_

"I hear you, Ganeer. Report."

"_Colonel O'Neill wishes me to inform you that Major Carter feels confident that she can make the internal lights of this structure perform_."

Grisk's underlying irritation threatened to burst its fragile barriers at Ganeer's convoluted message. "Explain, Ganeer. And try to do it in plain Komekian. I don't have time for the niceties of your private education."

To his credit, the young soldier barely paused before replying. "_Major Carter believes she can restore power to the systems that support life, Commander. This would provide ship-wide light. And warmth_."

"And what makes the Major think that this is safe to do?"

"_She believes the power needed is only minimal, Commander, and that it will cause no damage to us_. _Major Carter seems in earnest, sir_. _I have detected no attempts at deception, sir. I do not believe that this is a ploy against Komek. I believe, sir, that light would be – beneficial – to all of us_."

"When I want your opinion, Ganeer," Grisk snapped back swiftly. "I'll ask for it."

Grisk thought for a few moments, assessing what O'Neill and Carter were proposing. He was immediately suspicious, of course, but despite his harsh treatment of Ganeer he knew the young soldier was capable of producing an accurate report. The commander could also grudgingly understand the man's eagerness to once more operate in light. This gloom was enough to set anyone on edge. Grisk couldn't see what gains could be made by

Pressing the button on his radio, Grisk spoke to Ganeer once more. "Very well, tell them to proceed."

"_Yes, commander_." The relief in the youngster's voice was palpable.

"But be vigilant, Ganeer. If I find you have been compromised in any way –"

"_Never, commander_."

Grisk nodded in approval. "Keep me apprised. Grisk out."

The Komekian soldier had only gone a few more steps when he heard a faint clicking behind him, and the incessant gloom in which he had moved for so long seemed to lessen. Turning, Grisk saw that the other end of the corridor was lit, and the bright light was moving steadily toward him. Presumably, the lighting system activated section by section. Grisk stood still and waited for the moving light to pass himand had to blink several times before his eyes could accept the light without pain.

Being able to see the way before him, Grisk smiled to himself. He had made the right decision. At least now, they would be able to see whatever tricks O'Neill tried. Grisk made up his mind to go back to the bridge, so that he could assess for himself what had been going on since he left his troops alone in the Colonel's presence. But first, he would continue along this corridor to its end. By Grisk's methodical calculations, he must have covered the whole of this level. There was no sense in turning back now.

* * *

Daniel was in another conversation with Detar about the origins of the Goa'uld when the lights came on. He scrambled up, able to see the room properly for the first time.

"Excellent," he said, "this should make things a little easier. I was beginning to think that I'd have to translate the whole thing four inches at a time."

"How long before you understand everything that is written here?" Detar asked, rubbing his eyes in response to the fierce glare.

"Well, Teal'c and I are both able to read Goa'uld easily, so ordinarily it shouldn't take too long. However, there is a lot of material here – and in addition, there are a few characters that I don't recognise. What I'll probably end up doing is recording all of this digitally and then working on it back at the SGC."

"And then you will return and inform us of what it says?" Detar sounded faintly disappointed, "I would like also like to know how this ship ended up here."

Daniel turned, smiling. "I'm sure that won't be a problem at all. I –" he stopped dead, staring at the floor."

"Daniel Jackson?"

"Uh, Teal'c. What's that?" Daniel indicated a large indentation in the floor, right in the centre of the room. It was an outline, partly obscured by their packs.

Teal'c did not speak, but instead moved their equipment from where it hid the rest of the indentation. The three men looked down at the shape, which resembled a large box, shaped into a semi-circle at one end. The indentation was no more than half an inch deep.

Teal'c looked up at Daniel. "I believe there was once a sarcophagus resting here."

"A sarcophagus?" Detar repeated, "What's that?"

"The Goa'uld used them to heal the injured and in extreme cases, return the dead to life," said Daniel slowly, deep in thought." Maybe "Question is, where is it?"

"If Sobek was aboard the Ha'tak when it crashed here, it is possible he was injured. Perhaps his First Prime ordered him to be placed into the sarcophagus before the ship was evacuated. Perhaps the ring device was used to transport Sobek to another ship in orbit," surmised Teal'c.

Detar looked back at the walls of the room, glittering in the light. "Perhaps your translations of this room will tell us, Dr Jackson."

"Let's hope so," said Daniel. "I'd hate to solve one mystery only to uncover another."

"I shall inform Colonel O'Neill of our discovery," said Teal'c, reaching for his radio. "I believe he would want to know that there was once a sarcophagus aboard this vessel – and may still be."

"Good idea, Teal'c." Daniel busied himself, removing his camera from his pack and setting its components ready to record. "Don't make him panic, though. I've got to at least get this room on tape."

"I do not believe that I have ever seen evidence of O'Neill panicking, Daniel Jackson."

"Figure of speech, Teal'c."

* * *

The sound came again, and Grisk stopped, listening intently. At first he thought he had imagined it. A moment passed, and there it was again, a harsh little bark of distress in the silence – a human cough, surely.

He was almost at the end of the corridor, and Grisk pondered for a moment over what to do. He could call for back-up, get one of his eager and probably bored troops to come down and watch his back while he investigated. But that would mean waiting, and possibly alerting whomever it was to his presence as he spoke over the radio. The silence here was heavy and cloying, it took even the tiniest sound and amplified it for the ears of anyone within twenty paces. Making his decision, Grisk moved forward again, first unlatching the safety mechanism on his weapon. He wasn't going to take any chances. Well, he would probably take some, because that was his nature, but his instincts told Grisk that he was still the best. Nothing could get the better of him if he was alert, nothing ever had. Particularly if he had the advantage of surprise.

The sound came from an open door at the end of the corridor. Grisk crept forward again, taking his time. With the hand that wasn't playing over the trigger of his gun, the Commander turned down the volume of his radio to zero. He didn't want whatever lurked in the shadows to be alerted to his presence.

Reaching the doorway, Grisk paused, leaning out of sight against the door jamb. After a few seconds, the sound came again. The soldier's nose wrinkled in disgust at the hacking sound of diseased lungs. He never had been fond of the sick. Illness made his skin crawl.

On a silent mental count of three, Grisk swung into the room, gun pushed forward and at the ready. He stopped, silent still, and waited for some response to his presence from the room's occupant, but there was none. The soldier scanned the sparse room, taking in its contents, but could not locate the source of the cough.

The walls of the room were gold, as had been every other wall Grisk had seen in this place. Several boxes stood to one side of him, the lid of one open to reveal weapons similar to that carried by Teal'c. The open box seemed to be missing none of its contents, as it was full to overflowing.

In the centre of the room, as if someone had dumped it there in a hurry, was another huge box. This one, however, was clearly not merely for storage. It looked as if it was made of solid gold, and the lid, which was partially open, was richly decorated. To Grisk, it looked almost like the coffins of the rich, some sort of last monument to their status when alive.

The sound came again, and Grisk, who had not lowered his weapon since entering the room, deduced that it was coming from the other side of the great box. Moving cautiously, as silent as the grave, the soldier moved sideways until he was level with the storage boxes he had noticed first, and could see beyond the 'coffin'.

The figure looked pathetic. It was on all fours next to the box, clothes ragged and decayed, coughing listlessly. Clearly male, the man didn't seem to be making an effort to move, apparently too weak for anything other than the sick-sounding cough that intercut his rattling breaths with rasping regularity.

It seemed clear to Grisk that the suffering man had somehow crawled out of the box. He was evidently human, and a thrill of awful possibility coursed thorough the soldier. Perhaps this was the evidence against O'Neill that he needed. This pathetic figure of a man could be a plant, hidden in the depths of this ship ready for Earth's attack. Or perhaps this person was the attack? Could it be that Earth had launched a biological attack on Komek? Perhaps this person carried a plague that O'Neill and his team were immune to? Were they here to watch and gloat as his people died like insects in a jar?

Grisk's anger and paranoia spurred him forward. He no longer disguised his footsteps in the silence of the Ha'tak, moving toward his target confidently, his weapon raised and primed. The figure, still on all fours, heard his approach and tried to turn, but was too weak. He slumped instead, falling back against the box, his head lolling toward Grisk. The man's eyes were rheumy, sunk deep into his gaunt, faintly yellow-skinned face. His lips moved, as if trying to say something, and Grisk felt a stirring of horror deep in his being, the sense that this wretched bag of bones had risen from somewhere primal, like a memory in his own subconscious of ancient cruelty. The soldier pushed his disgust down, moving the tip of his weapon closer to the huddled figure.

"Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you with O'Neill? Are there more of you?"

No sign of recognition passed the figure's face, and Grisk wasn't even sure if the man had heard his questions. His lips were moving again, seeming to repeat words that Grisk simply couldn't make out.

"What? Speak up, man, I can't hear you."

The sick figure made no effort to increase his volume, and though his eyes held a trace of deep distress, Grisk wasn't even sure the man could see him. He was clearly no match for Grisk in terms of physical strength, and so the soldier felt no fear in leaning forward in an attempt to catch a trace of the words falling from this dying stranger's mouth.

"The….master…" the figure whispered something else, but Grisk still couldn't hear it.

"Again," he said, crouching closer, "say it again. I don't understand you."

"The…master…within," mouthed the living skeleton, "still…lives…"

The man tailed off as his breath rattled horribly in his lungs. Grisk knew from experience that the sound signified death was near.

With a sigh as his earlier disgust returned, Grisk was about to move back when the man's eyes suddenly seemed to gain a focus, locking onto his own with a fierce intensity. The soldier, startled by this unexpected change in demeanour, started to move back, but out of nowhere the figure's arm flew up, the hand gripping the back of Grisk's neck with a force that defied belief. Grisk struggled, shouting and trying to break free enough to fire his weapon, but he couldn't. The thing that had convinced him it was nothing but a bag of dying flesh and bones held him fast, pulling his head toward it's open, diseased mouth. In the last seconds before their lips met, Grisk saw the creature's eyes, burning brighter than a flashlight.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	6. Chapter 6

**Preservation**

**Chapter 6**

Now that things were moving along and he wasn't just kicking his heels in a darkened room, O'Neill was a little happier. Carter had informed him that she was starting to check over the other systems, and would be able to deliver a report on how damaged the rest of the Ha'tak was soon enough.

His radio crackled on his chest, and O'Neill craned his neck to answer the voice that he recognised as Teal'c.

"Go, Teal'c. Do you guys have lights down there now?"

"_We do indeed, O'Neill. Daniel Jackson is currently recording the inscriptions in the room_."

"Okay. Anything else to report?"

"_Just one thing, O'Neill. We have found an indentation in the floor indicating that at one time this room housed a sarcophagus."_

O'Neill felt his eyebrows rise a notch. "What do you mean, once?"

"_It is no longer in this room. However, Daniel Jackson and I believe it was probably removed before or immediately after the crash, possibly with Sobek recovering inside._"

"We're definitely sure that it's not on board somewhere else? With something nasty still lurking in it?"

"_I see no reason why the Goa'uld would have relocated the sarcophagus other than to transport it to another ship, O'Neill_. _Also, we know that Sobek died at the hands of Bastet, and not as a result of any accident._"

"Right. Well, thanks for the update, Teal'c. Grisk's still off on his walkabout, so I'll tell him to keep an eye out, just in case."

"_Very well, O'Neill_."

Cutting his radio connection with Teal'c, the Colonel moved toward their guards.

"Have you heard from Grisk recently?"

"We communicated with the Commander before he allowed Major Carter to attempt initiating life support." O'Neill identified the speaker as Ganeer. "He has not contacted us since."

"Is there any way I can talk to him? I just want to alert him to something Teal'c and Daniel have discovered. Nothing to worry about. Probably. But I thought he should know." Jack gave Ganeer his most charming smile. "He wanted to be kept informed, after all."

Ganeer hesitated for a moment, glancing at his companions. Eventually, the soldier unhooked his radio from his belt and handed it to O'Neill.

"Use this button to speak," he said.

"I got it. Thanks." O'Neill took a step back, holding one finger on the button and speaking into the mouthpiece. "Grisk. This is O'Neill. Do you read me?"

A static crackle echoed over the airwaves, but there was no reply from Grisk. O'Neill frowned, looking up at the three soldiers as he tried again. "Grisk. This is O'Neill. Come in."

There was no answer except the same harsh sound of static. Ganeer, Tomit and Mikas exchanged concerned glances, mirrored by O'Neill himself. Not that he had any particular worries over Grisk's personal safety, but if there was something out there that was capable of taking down an armed soldier, O'Neill wanted to know about it, and quickly.

"We'd better form a search party. I'll accompany you, I know my way around this thing better than you, and I –" he was interrupted by the radio in his hand bursting into life as a voice bellowed over the airwaves.

"_Grisk here. Who is that_?"

"It's O'Neill, Grisk. What are you playing at? You didn't answer my radio call. Is everything okay?"

"_What are you doing on my channel? What's happened to my soldiers?_"

"Nothing, Grisk, they're here, they're fine. I wanted to talk to you myself. What took you so long to answer?"

There was a pause as Grisk coughed hoarsely for several seconds. "_I was examining an artefact_."

"What, you had your hands full so you just didn't answer?" O'Neill asked, annoyed. "God, you're as bad as Daniel. Are you sure everything's ok?"

Another pause, another cough, though briefer this time. "_Apart from the infernal dust. This place is full of it. What do you want, O'Neill_?"

"I just wanted to let you know that Daniel and Teal'c have found a room that used to have a sarcophagus in it, but it's gone. If you find it, don't touch it."

"_What does this sarcophagus look like_?"

"It's large, looks kind of like a coffin. Made of gold."

"_Does it have patterns on its surface_?" Grisk asked, his voice back to normal, apparently cleared of dust. "_And one end is shaped like a half moon_?"

"Yup, that's the one. You found it?"

"_I have. It's open, empty. Full of dust_."

"No noises coming from it? No glowing?"

"_Nothing, O'Neill_."

"Okay, well then I guess we don't need to worry. Are you nearly done in your rambling? Now that Carter's got this life support sorted, we should be able to tell you some more stuff about the ship."

"_I will return shortly_."

"Right. Well, let us know if you want a guide. You don't want to get lost in this thing. Take a wrong turning, that sort of thing."

"_That won't be necessary. Grisk out_."

O'Neill frowned as he handed the radio back to Ganeer. Well, it looked as if they didn't need to worry about the sarcophagus or what might be lurking in it. The Ha'tak really was deserted.

There was a sudden electrical crackle from behind him, followed by a brief yelp from Carter. O'Neill swung around to see the Major learning against one of the still-dead consoles, nursing a hand.

"Carter? You okay?"

"Yes sir. Damn thing bit me," she said as he moved toward her. "It's nothing, sir, really. There must have been a bit of an energy surge as I tested this console."

The Colonel looked at Carter's hand, noticing the red weal that was developing across her palm. "Stick some antiseptic on it, Carter. You don't know what ancient nasties are lurking –"

His lecture was cut off as the crackle came again, a flash of power causing the console Carter had been working on to jerk across the floor.

"What the hell?"

Unexpectedly, the console on which Carter was leaning burst into life with a crackling shudder. As she turned around to look, another console twenty paces away did the same thing, lights illuminating wildly.

O'Neill warily slid a hand down to his P-90. "Carter? What's going on?"

She ran between the consoles, slamming her good hand down on buttons that were still lit. "I don't know, sir. I haven't powered any of these other consoles up. They're not even connected to the grid that I'm working on, I –"

From somewhere deep within the ship, there was a long, shuddering creak, and the sound of metal shearing violently against metal.

* * *

The force of the first jolt was such that Daniel almost dropped his camera. Regaining his balance, he turned to Teal'c.

"What the hell was that?"

As the first jolt subsided, another threatened to unbalance him. The ship groaned again, followed by a prolonged shudder. Almost immediately, Tealc's radio sprang into life.

"_You there, Teal'c?_" Even over the radio the archaeologist could hear the tension in his friend's voice. Teal'c glanced at him before he answered Jack's call.

"O'Neill, it is I. We are experiencing some… disturbance."

"_Tell me about it. Carter's working on it, Teal'c. You and Daniel should get back up here in case we need to evacuate."_

Across the room, Daniel began to signal frantically, indicating the walls and his camera. He didn't want to leave yet! He hadn't even managed to get the whole room on film, let alone got samples.

"Daniel Jackson is indicating that he requires more time, O'Neill."

"_There's a surprise. Tell him if he's not up here in ten, I'll break that damn camera of his. Ok?_"

"I understand, O'Neill. We will be with you shortly." Teal'c terminated the radio link, turning impassively to Daniel.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, Teal'c. I've got to at least get this on film! What if we have to evacuate and I can't come back?"

"You yourself heard Colonel O'Neill's orders, Daniel Jackson. We must comply."

"Five minutes, okay?" Daniel was already switching the camera back on, fighting against the shuddering that seemed to be increasing in ferocity. "Five minutes, I just need –"

"If we stay five minutes more, we will not meet O'Neill's wishes to return within ten minutes." Teal'c observed mildly. "In which case, taking more pictures would be a futile exercise."

"Okay. Two minutes, okay? Two minutes, that's all I ask."

Daniel didn't wait for an answer. If the truth be told he'd be lucky to get anything of use from the pictures he was about to record anyway. The Ha'tak was shuddering so badly that the archaeologist was finding it difficult keeping his balance, let alone focus on the walls of hieroglyphs. But he couldn't leave without at least having a record of this room and what it held. If this ship was about to be consigned to the depths of history, he could at least have the chance to find out more about its origins.

He glanced back to see Teal'c and Detar already standing at the doorway, waiting for him.

"Two minutes," he promised, shouting to them over the rising din. "Two minutes, that's all I need."

* * *

"Carter!"

"I know, sir, I know!" The Major was running between consoles, yanking out crystals, pressing buttons, all with no success. The shuddering went on and on. The floor was moving so violently that it was almost impossible to stand.

"Tell me what's going on! What is it?"

"I don't know, sir!" Carter dragged a hand through her hair, "This shouldn't be happening. This can't be happening!"

O'Neill crossed to his second in command, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Get a grip, Carter. Tell me what's going on."

She took a breath, nodding. "I think this is some kind of cascade reaction," she said as another console burst into life behind them in a shower of burning sparks.

"And what does that mean? I thought this was supposed to be completely safe?" He pointed a finger at her, "Your words, Carter."

"I know, sir. There must have been some sort of internal damage – this shouldn't be possible. Life support should be isolated from the rest of the ship's systems – it's a safety feature. It's the most important function of the ship – it has to be able to function separately in case of situations like this."

"I'm waiting for the 'but' here, Major."

"I don't know, sir," she looked desperate, which wasn't encouraging. "This seems to be some sort of chain reaction, building throughout the ship's systems." Carter indicated the latest console to come alight, "this is tactical, sir. I didn't activate it. It activated itself."

"Are you telling me this thing is turning itself on?"

"Yes sir."

"Well turn the damn thing off!"

"I don't know how, Colonel! This reaction shouldn't even be happening – that's why I was so sure it was safe to power up life support in the first place."

"You said we'd be okay as long as we didn't power up the engines, right? Turn on the reactor core?"

"Yes sir – but this reaction is running through all the systems." Carter almost fell as another violent shudder tore through the bridge. O'Neill glanced around to see Grisk's men holding each other up. "Sir, I don't know how to stop this. If it carries on building – it will eventually reach the reactor. Clearly there is more power preserved here than I had anticipated."

"Clearly. Okay, well we'd better evacuate then, hadn't we?"

"But sir – I can't leave. I have to stop this."

"And you will, Carter. We'll figure out how to do this safely and we'll come back." He began to move toward their guards.

"No, sir –"

"_No_ sir?"

"Sir, you don't understand. If I don't stop this before it reaches the reactor, it'll be too late. If the Ha'tak powers up to it's full capacity, this ice cap will melt – possibly the entire Northern Plate, too. If that happens, then the Southern Continents will be flooded by a tidal wave so large that it'll devastate everything. Every_one_."

The Colonel stared at her. He hadn't often seen such a hopeless look on the face of his second in command. Usually O'Neill had complete confidence in her abilities – he even joked about it. Carter can fix anything, Carter the Unstoppable Science Machine. But right now it was clear that she was in over her head, and it filled him with a dread that he forced far down into his gut as he stepped closer, gripping her elbow.

"Major. You can fix this."

He could see her eyes saying no she couldn't, as plainly as he could smell the acrid tang of electrical burning in the air. But what she said was, "Yes sir. I have to, sir."

"Damn straight. Get to it. You and I will stay put and sort this mess out. The others can make a run for it."

Carter nodded, and he could see her mind was already working on the problem, turning it over, looking for the crack that would give her a handle on it, a foothold on the mountain she faced. O'Neill turned away, glancing at his watch and realising that the other half of his team were overdue. He grabbed at his radio with a scowl.

"Teal'c, come in. Where the hell are you?"

"_We are on our way, O'Neill_."

"He's still recording, isn't he? Get him the hell out of there and get both your butts up here, Teal'c," O'Neill shouted, "That's an order, for crying out loud. You hear me?"

"_I understand, O'Neill_."

"I don't care if you damn well understand, Teal'c. Just do it." He dropped the radio back into his pocket, scrubbing a hand through his short greying hair. Today was turning out to be a very bad day.

O'Neill turned to the three guards, who were watching him and Carter with undisguised terror.

"We have to evacuate," he ordered, striding toward them, "the three of you, now. I'll be ordering the rest of my team to do the same."

"We cannot leave you here without supervision," the one called Tomit said nervously, "Commander Grisk ordered us –"

"Commander Grisk will be evacuating too. You'd better tell him what's going on." He hesitated, glancing over to where Carter was frantically pulling wires out of a console. "Tell him we've made a mistake, and we're trying to fix it, but it's not safe for anyone to stay if they're not needed. Carter's working on it, and I'll stay to assist, but everyone else is to get to the surface in case the structure collapses."

"I do not think –"

Jack didn't wait for a reply, turning his back on them and moving back toward Carter instead, taking his radio out as he did so. Over his shoulder, he heard the three young men frantically discussing what he'd said. Jack hardly registered their departure as he shouted down the radio.

"Teal'c, come in."

"_I read you, O'Neill. We are on our way_."

"Change of plan, Teal'c. You, Daniel and your guard are to head to the surface. Don't come back here first."

"_Is there some further problem, O'Neill?_"

"Oh, you could say that. Carter's hit a bit of a technical hitch. We're trying to sort it out."

_"Do you require assistance?"_

"Negative. Get yourself and Daniel to the surface, I don't want more personnel in here than necessary. I've ordered Grisk's men out too. If you have any problems, take the snow crawlers and head back to the 'gate." He paused, reaching up to tug on the peak of his cap, "We'll follow as soon as we can."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the radio before Teal'c's voice spoke into O'Neill's ear once more.

"_Very well, O'Neill. We will see you on the surface._"

"Watch your back, Teal'c. Grisk's going to be pissed, not to mention suspicious. O'Neill out."

* * *

Grisk massaged the back of his neck as he moved. His head had developed an aching pain, though he wasn't prone to headaches as a rule. The Commander scowled. Perhaps it was being here too long, submerged beneath a useless wasteland. He wanted to see daylight, to feel a fresh breeze on his face instead of this stale, rancid air.

Something tickled at the back of his mind, as if he should be remembering something important, but it eluded his faculties. Shaking his head, Grisk took as deep a breath as he could bear, and realised that his throat was sore. He was sure it hadn't been earlier. But what did he mean by earlier? Before they entered this cursed ship, or before-?

Before what?

The soldier stopped again, confusion overcoming him. Resting one hand against the cold wall of the corridor, Grisk realised that the ship was shaking. The walls were vibrating, the floor on which he stood was trembling with some hidden force. When had that started? Why hadn't he noticed it? He turned around, gazing back down the corridor in the direction in which he had just moved. Grisk knew, somehow, that he was heading back to the bridge, but when had he decided to do so, and where had he been when he had decided to return? Grisk looked along the empty corridor, with no recollection of reaching the end. But he must have done, and he must have found nothing, because now he had started to retrace his route. He shook his head, trying to clear the indeterminate fog that had filled his brain. Perhaps he had fallen when the ship started shaking, and knocked his head.

Fresh air. The thought was a potent longing, assaulting him unexpectedly. But he couldn't leave the ship, of course – he had men here, troops that he had abandoned in the powers of Colonel O'Neill for far too long. They needed to be regrouped, debriefed. He needed to establish his authority over them once more. One half of Grisk's brain knew this, accepted it without question as the soldier once again began to move on the route he knew would take him back to the bridge.

But there was another part of his brain longing for fresh air, and it was insistent. Weak, but insistent, and growing stronger.

His radio crackled, and another pain shot through Grisk's head as he clamped one hand firmly across it.

"Grisk here. Go."

"_Commander, we are evacuating the vessel_."

A flash of anger rolled through Grisk's gut. "On whose orders?"

"_Colonel O'Neill's, Commander. He is worried for our welfare…_"

"Is he indeed? Let me speak with him, now."

There was an ominous pause. "_Colonel O'Neill does not accompany us, sir. He and Major Carter have remained behind in an attempt to solve the problem._"

"Problem? What problem?"

"_Major Carter has discovered that the systems are more damaged than she had originally thought, Commander. Firing up life support has triggered_ –"

"Cut the babble, Lieutenant," Grisk snapped, suddenly aware of just how avidly the ship was shaking. He had to fight to keep his balance on the heaving floor. "So let me get this straight. Colonel O'Neill and his team set off some sort of reaction in this ship, and then he told you that the best thing would be for you to leave him there – alone? And you _did_ it?"

"_Well, Commander, it seemed_ –"

"Imbecile! You will return immediately and retrieve them both! You are not to leave this vessel without them, is that understood?"

"_But Commander_ –"

"No buts. Get the Colonel and the Major and bring them with you. I'll meet you on the surface."

"_Then we are evacuating, Commander?_"

Grisk paused, suddenly unable to remember when he had made that decision. Surely evacuation was merely a trick on the part of the Colonel to get the Komekian forces to leave the Ha'tak. The smart thing to do would be to refuse, to stay –

The desire to be on the open expanse of the Plate washed over him again. No, of course it would be better to evacuate. They would return, he assured himself. This was clearly the best course of action. Perhaps he could persuade his government that it would be better then for Komekian scientists to enter the vessel next time, and send SG-1 back to Earth.

"_Commander?_"

"Yes, you are to return to the surface, Ganeer. But if you return without O'Neill and Carter –"

"_We won't, Commander_."

"Don't fail me again. Grisk out."

Without thinking, Grisk changed direction and moved off along a different branch of the corridor. This would take him to the exit hatch. For some reason, he was sure of it.

* * *

O'Neill was hunkered down beside Carter when Tomit, Mikas and Ganeer suddenly appeared, weapons drawn and primed, in the doorway of the bridge.

"What the –" O'Neill went for his gun, but Mikas kicked it out of his reach. "Mikas, what's going on?"

"We have orders to remove you from the ship," the soldier answered mildly.

"What? You can't do that!" Carter, her weapon also removed from her grasp, looked at each of the soldiers in turn. "I have to fix this. I can't leave."

"She's right, boys." O'Neill got slowly to his feet, keeping his hands raised, palms showing in an attempt at placation. "We can't leave. Carter's got to stop what's happening to the ship, or the whole of your world will be in danger. Come on Mikas. You're beginning to know me. I'm not fooling here, you know it."

The Lieutenant named Ganeer stepped forward, between the Colonel and the young soldier. "What Mikas does or doesn't know is irrelevant, Colonel. We have orders to take you to the surface, whatever your protests. Come, we must leave now."

"You don't understand," exclaimed Carter, "I have to stop this now! Seventy-two hours. That's all I've got to stop this powering up. I've calculated how long it's going to take before this reaction reaches the engines, and that's it – seventy-two hours. That's how long you've got until your world dies if you don't let me work this out."

"That sounds like a threat, Major."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" O'Neill shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "We're not screwing around! This is serious!"

"And so are we, Colonel. You have no choice. You must come with us."

After a tense moment, seeing that it was useless to argue, O'Neill nodded with a resigned sigh. "Fine."

"Colonel, no –"

"We'll be back, Carter. I'll just have to make Grisk see sense, that's all. Very quickly. Okay?"

She stared at him for a moment, before shrugging. "Yes sir."

"Right then. Let's get going, shall we? I've got some convincing to do."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	7. Chapter 7

**Preservation**

**Chapter Seven** **  
**

Outside on The Plate, night had fallen, casting the fields of ice in a silvery hue. Grisk had been the first to emerge from the crevice, the curious desperation he had felt to experience fresh air on his face driving him on. His climb had been so swift and uncompromising that the shards of ice that graced the crevice' walls had shattered under his palms. Looking down at his uncovered hands, he was surprised to see that they were unharmed save for a few scratches. He must have been more careful than he thought.

The fog that had dogged his footsteps inside the vessel had disappeared once Grisk had cleared the crevice and seen his patiently waiting troops. There had been fresh snow fall since he and SG-1 had vanished into the Ha'tak, and the troops had followed procedure and pitched a small camp inside which they could shelter more easily. They lit a stove and warmed a drink for him during the debrief.

A sudden twinge at the back of his head made him wince, and something of the fog that had affected him inside the ship returned for a moment. Grisk frowned, shutting his eyes and shaking his head to try and clear it. When he opened them again, the soldier found one of his troops pouring more drink into his mug.

"What are you doing?"

"Pourng you another drink, sir. You – commanded it."

Grisk struggled to cover his astonishment, and allowed the young man to finish his task. What was happening to him? Was he perhaps losing his mind? Getting too old to do even this glorified desk job?

His bleak thoughts were interrupted as another one of his men appeared from the post where he was standing watch outside.

"Sir – Lieutenant Ganeer has just reported that they have cleared the ship and are preparing to ascend the crevice wall. They also report that the two Earth soldiers are unarmed."

"Excellent. As soon as they emerge – arrest them."

They left the tent together, heading for the crevice.

* * *

The ascent back up the crevice was tough, even for an experienced ice-climber like Jack. His muscles burned with the effort required to pull himself up the frozen wall, and even through his gloves, the shards of ice cut into his hands. O'Neill glanced over his shoulder to see Carter also struggling. By the time they reached the top, both had to catch their breath. Bent double, sucking in the frigid air, the Colonel glanced up to see Grisk an Ganeer, followed by several other soldiers, striding toward them.

"Grisk," he said, straightening up, "we have to talk. Carter's –"

"We don't _have _to do anything, Colonel. Or at least, I don't have to do anything. You, however, are under arrest. As will the rest of your team be when they finally emerge."

"You gotta be kidding me…"

"My government, Colonel, will thank me for stopping an alien plot that would have seen Earth gain a significant foothold on – or should I say, under - Komek. You will be transported to Barask immediately." Grisk turned his attention to the two men standing guard beside O'Neill and Carter. "If they move, shoot to kill."

"No, Grisk, wait, there's something I need to tell you. You have to listen to me. Komek is in danger. This ice cap is going to melt – very soon – if you don't let Carter back inside the Ha'tak to stop it."

"What sort of fool do you take me for, Colonel? Is that the best that you can do?' Grisk laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "You could have done me the courtesy of coming up with a better cover story than that."

"It's not a ploy, or a story, Grisk. It's deadly serious. Carter, tell him, will you?"

"Grisk, when I started up life support, it had an unexpected side effect. Something tripped in the power grid, and now the entire ship is on a cascade power-up. If it reached the engines, the power expelled by the reactor will melt this ice cap. This is serious, Commander. I have 72 hours – less than that now – to sort this out."

"Why should I believe this nonsense?"

"It doesn't matter if you believe us or not, Grisk," barked the Colonel, "all you need to know is that Carter's got to stop it. She's the only one who can, so let's just cut this crap and let her get on with it."

Grisk's eyes glittered dangerously in the night, and O'Neill's heart sank as he realised that the Commander clearly had no intention of listening to anything he or Carter told him. The Komekian's radio crackled, and as he moved away from them heading into the single tent that have been erected in their absence O'Neill glanced at Carter, trying to find a way of expressing himself without words. Thank god Carter knew him well enough to see his intentions, following the directions in which his eyes glanced – toward the crevice, toward his calf where his hunting knife was hidden beneath his BDUs, toward the soldier nearest him. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and traced the same route with her own eyes, finishing up by glancing at the soldier standing solidly at her shoulder. Carter knew what he was suggesting, all right.

They were going to have to make a break for it. If they could get back to the SGC, then maybe they could open negotiations – very swift ones – with the Komekian government to get access once again to the Ha'tak before it went nova and they could add the death of an entire world to his already besmirched conscience.

Jack flexed his muscles, glancing at Carter again, who looked equally focused even though she was deliberately deflecting her attention from his face. "Detar and the last two members of SG-1 are scaling the crevice wall now." Grisk's voice preceded his appearance, emerging once more from the tent as he shouted orders to his men. "Apprehend them as we did O'Neill and Carter. Detar informs me that they are still armed, so remove their weapons at the earliest opportunity. Keep Detar away from them, he may have been contaminated."

O'Neill felt his shoulders bunch as he watched the last two soldiers under Grisk's command split away from them and head toward the crevice. SG-1 were outnumbered three to one, and half of his team hadn't even been warned about what they were expected to do. The odds weren't great, even with the element of surprise, but they would have to do. The Colonel clenched and unclenched his hand, forcing his face to remain impassive as he waited for the first sign of life to appear over the edge of the crevice. He saw Teal'c's dark head appear and lunged for the soldier closest to him, feeling Carter move but a second behind him. His hand was curled around his victim's mouth before the soldier had a chance to shout a warning to his colleague, let alone react. He didn't have to look to know that Carter was right with him. His captor had now become his captive – O'Neill spun his around, knocking this out with a sharp punch that snapped the man's head back before he crumpled quietly to the ground. O'Neill reached for the soldier's firearm, glancing up to find Carter, in an almost perfect mirror of his movements, clasping her weapon hand around her victim's gun. O'Neill remembered briefly that it was the hand she'd burnt when the first console went up, but it seemed that their plight had forced the pain from the Major's mind.

Their assault had taken less than a minute, but O'Neill knew they were already almost out of time. There had been little noise to alert their other captors, but at any second Grisk or one of his men could glance in their direction and discover their escape. Turning his attention in the direction of the crevice, O'Neill saw that Teal'c had cleared the edge and was standing warily before the approaching soldiers.

"Teal'c!" O'Neill shouted into his radio, realising that the element of surprise had already been used up. "We need backup"

O'Neill watched as Teal'c, without any discernible hesitation at all, raised his weapon and fired on Grisk's two approaching men. They were felled instantly, lying motionless with their limbs sprawled in the snow. A split second later, the rest of Grisk's troops – the ones who had previously been responsible for monitoring SG-1's activity inside the Ha'tak, appeared from where they had been ordered to wait behind Grisk's tent. Grisk himself, half way between where O'Neill stood and where Teal'c crouched ready for the next assault, turned toward them.

"Kill them!" he screamed, letting a loose a flurry of bullets in O'Neill's direction as he ran for cover behind one the Komekian snow crawlers. "Don't let them escape! _Kill them_!"

* * *

When Daniel Jackson heard O'Neill's muffled shout over Teal'c's radio, he was still climbing his way out of the crevice. The archaeologist froze for a moment, hearing the commotion of hell break out above him on the ice flat.

Glancing back over his shoulder and down the crevice wall, Jackson's eyes met Detar's. Something flashed between them In Detar, Daniel had seen a hope for better relations between Earth and Komek, relations that were clearly possible if only Grisk's suspicious nature could be quelled.

Yet now here they were, on opposite sides of the fence with a gulf opening up between them, and self-preservation had to take over if either of them were to survive. A split second before the soldier went for his gun; Daniel saw a flash of regret pass the young man's eyes and knew that it was mirrored in his own.

"Sorry," Daniel muttered uselessly into the air. His heavily booted foot connected with the soldier's hand, taking Detar by surprise and forcing him off balance. Another blow from Daniel's boot dislodged his grip completely and sent him plummeting to the valley floor below.

Turning his attention once more to climbing out of the crevice, Daniel forced the image of Detar's falling body from his mind. He could allow himself penance later – for now, he had to get out of this mess in one piece. He could vaguely hear voices shouting over the bursts of gun-fire, though none were distinguishable. The melee that he crawled into was as bad as any he'd ever seen. A little to his right, Teal'c was lying flat in a snow drift, holding off an attack from two of Grisk's soldiers, all of whom had taken shelter behind their snow crawlers.

To his left, Daniel was relieved to see Jack and Sam, still alive and fighting from a position in front of a tent that must have been erected by Grisk's men, as unprotected as their Jaffa team mate's. Behind the tent stood SG-1's snow crawler's, covered in fresh snow. Daniel threw himself to the ground as the soldiers targeting Teal'c found him in their sights. Firing off a return round, he heard his radio crackle as Jack's voice shouted across it.

_"Daniel, to me!"_

If Daniel knew when not to argue with Jack and Teal'c's grasp of military matters, it was in a firefight. Shouting a brief affirmative, he dropped the radio and began to edge to his left, keeping his intermittent bursts of gunfire going as he moved. He noted absently that the night had paled slightly, evidently sliding toward the dawn. When the sun rose, SG-1 would lose even the slight cover that the darkness had afforded them. As Jack had pointed out on their arrival, there was nowhere to hide on The Plate.

Daniel was almost parallel to Jack's position when he heard Teal'c's gun go silent. Looking toward his colleague's position, he saw Teal'c examining his weapon before throwing it down in disgust. Clearly, he was out of ammunition, putting him in a deadly position. Teal'c had nowhere to shelter and was now without weapons with which to defend himself.

"Jack!" Daniel shouted over the snow toward the Colonel, who was still frantically loosing bullets toward the covered soldiers.

"I see him, Daniel." O'Neill, taking his eyes of his target for a moment, glanced toward the archaeologist. Grabbing his radio, he spoke into it so that Carter could hear his orders. "Carter, you and Daniel need to cover me. Alternate fire to save ammunition. I'm going to get Teal'c."

_"Got it, sir."_

Nodding, Daniel fired off a swift burst of bullets, hearing Sam immediately take up the refrain when he stopped. They continued this routine as O'Neill dodged and weaved, bending low in the falling snow as he ran toward Teal'c. Daniel used the time when Sam was providing cover to edge closer until he was parallel to the Major. They were making little impact on the soldiers safely shielded by the alien vehicles, but they had no choice but to keep firing.

**

O'Neill skidded to a stop beside Teal'c, gun firing wildly at their opponents. Teal'c had pushed forward what snow was available in the immediate vicinity creating a tiny 'wall' of compacted snow, behind which his form was now partially concealed. It wouldn't slow an advance, but it did offer some scant cover from the constant assault.

"You okay here, buddy?"

"A bullet in the leg, O'Neill."

"Not good news Teal'c."

"No. You should have attempted an escape without me."

O'Neill paused before he answered, forcing one of the Komekian soldiers – Tomit? – to cease in his attempt to creep out from his shelter. He was damned if he was going to die on this ice cube of a planet, Jack thought defiantly. He hadn't just spent two glorious weeks at his cabin to wave goodbye to it forever.

"We're all getting out of here, Teal'c, even if it's in several pieces."

"Your faith in our ability to survive is reassuring, O'Neill."

"Was that a _joke_? _Now_?" O'Neill shook his head. "Can you move at all?"

"I will be a grave hindrance."

O'Neill glanced down at the bright pall of blood tainting the perfect new snow around Teal'c's lower leg and grimaced. "We're going to have to do something about that."

"I have no medical supplies, O'Neill," Teal'c shouted over a fresh volley of enemy fire. "They are in Daniel Jackson's possession."

"Can you take the wheel for a few?" O'Neill asked, thrusting the gun at Teal'c. As his friend resumed firing, the Colonel turned his attention to the warrior's leg. The wound was deep, but Jack could see both an entry and exit wound. Grabbing at the medkit in his tac vest, O'Neill pulled out a gauze pad, a length of bandage and some antiseptic. "It's times like this, I really miss old Doc Fraiser," Jack shouted as he attempted to stop Teal'c bleeding.

Teal'c didn't answer, too busy defending their position. Suddenly, the air fell silent. Jack heard the last hail of bullets rattle away into nothing as both Daniel and Carter's guns ceased firing. From the enemy's positions, no sound could be heard at all.

"What's happening?" O'Neill asked, leaving Teal'c's wound and crawling back up to their makeshift shield.

"The Komekian soldiers appear to have stopped firing."

The Colonel's radio crackled on his chest, loud in the sudden void of noise. "O'Neill, go."

"_The enemy have stopped their attack_."

"Seems that way, Carter. Are you and Daniel okay?"

"_Yes, sir, we're fine_."

O'Neill surveyed the Komekian line – what he could see of it – from where he lay. Flexing his muscles to stop them going to sleep, he came to a decision and clicked his radio to reply to his second.

"Carter. Get out of here."

_"Sir?"_

"You and Daniel break for the gate. We'll be right behind you."

From the pause that followed, he guessed Carter wasn't happy about the order, though she'd never say so. Jack also suspected that she was getting a voice in her ear – Daniel. But O'Neill knew what he was doing. He had a sneaking suspicion that Grisk, capable soldier that he was, had some sort of plan afoot to catch them unawares. If they didn't make a break for it now, they may never get another opportunity.

"_Colonel, we'll break for the snow crawlers and then cover you from there."_

"Take out the enemy's tyres while you're at it," Jack ordered. "O'Neill out." He dropped the radio back to his chest, glancing at Teal'c.

"Is it not possible that Grisk is waiting for us to make such a move, O'Neill?"

"Sure it's possible, Teal'c. But I have a feeling it's more likely that they've radioed for back-up from Barask. If that back-up gets here, we're finished. So I say we make a run for it."

Teal'c inclined his head. "I am unable able to run, O'Neill."

O'Neill glanced back at Teal'c's leg, seeing that the blood had already soaked through his make-shift bandage. The Colonel knew that his friend had to be in considerable pain, despite the fact that the ex-Jaffa would never show it. The bullet had passed straight through muscle, and that was never an easy shot to take.

"We'll get there, Teal'c. They're going to cover us. We'll just take it easy. A nice little stroll in the snow." He looked back to the Komekian line again. There was some small movement going on, obscured from view by the Komekian's equipment, tent and their own snow vehicles. O'Neill turned back to Teal'c once more, shifting his head in the direction of Carter and Daniel's position. "You ready to split this joint?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Let's go then. I've had enough of Snow World for one day."

* * *

Carter's radio crackled, buzzing between her chest and the cold ground on which she lay. Pulling it up to her face, she spoke into it.

"Carter."

"_Teal'c__ and I are about to go over the top_."

"Right, sir. We'll be ready for you. Carter out."

Dropping the radio again, she gripped her cold hands around her P-90 and turned to look at Daniel, lying beside her a few yards away.

"I hope Jack knows what he's doing," muttered the archaeologist.

"We'll be fine. We just need to make it to the crawlers."

"And then what? Do you know how far we came across that ice? Finding our way back to the 'gate is going to be –"

"Daniel," Carter cut him off, "We'll make it. We have to make it. I've got to stop this mess from getting any worse–" she broke off, seeing O'Neill raise his head over the snow, and Teal'c's a second behind him. "We're on, Daniel. Give them as much cover as you can."

Daniel nodded, and together they moved to a crouching position, creeping from where they had lain in the snow. Immediately, a shower of bullets sprayed in their direction, and Carter opened fire. She could see O'Neill and Teal'c attempting to make their way toward them, Teal'c slowed by a nasty wound in his leg. He was limping, leaning heavily on the Colonel for support whilst firing O'Neill's weapon to add weight to Carter's own volley of cover fire. She suddenly realised just how much ground they had to cover before they were safe.

Even as Carter and Daniel neared their snow crawlers, the Major knew her two colleagues struggling across the snow weren't going to make it without considerable help. Despite the cover fire provided by herself and Daniel, one gun between them wasn't going to be enough. Reaching the first vehicle, she crouched down against the wheel arch, dragging Daniel down to her level. O'Neill and Teal'c were about half way to their destination now. If she could move one of the snow crawlers to meet them, then it was just possible she could give them enough cover to reach Daniel's position and secure vehicles of their own. How Teal'c was going to control the quad with just one good leg, the Major wasn't sure, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. Right now the priority was to get O'Neill and Teal'c out of the firing line and back under the protection of their colleagues.

Carter was just about the turn to Daniel and explain her plan when the archaeologist paused firing and pointed to something out on The Plate.

"What the hell is that?" he shouted to Sam.

The Major turned to look, and her heart stalled at what she saw. Grisk's men had produced a new weapon from amongst their equipment. From where Sam stood it looked like a small rocket launcher. Whatever it was, it was exactly what they didn't need at this particular point in their escape. SG-1 had nothing to launch a similar attack with, and not even one of the tough little snow crawlers would survive a hit from a projectile like that. Raising her weapon once more, Carter fired on the two men operating it, but with no success.

"Dammit," she shouted in frustration, "the Colonel and Teal'c are sitting ducks out there. I've got to go back for them." Carter turned to the snow crawler, intending to power one up. Before she could do so, her radio crackled and the Colonel's voice came across the airways.

"_O'Neill to Carter_."

"Carter here. Dig in, Colonel, we're coming for you."

"_I don't think so, Carter. You'll never make it. I want you and Daniel to_ –"

O'Neill was cut off as the Komekian's launched one of their lightweight rockets, sending it soaring in an arc toward SG-1's commander. It failed to reach it's target, instead impacting the ground somewhere in between where Carter and Daniel watched in horror and where the Colonel and Teal'c crouched.

The effect was cataclysmic. The rocket struck the surface of the ice floe, finding no resistance in the surface covering of soft snow and plunging several feet, exploding on impact with the compacted ice beneath. The blast knocked Sam off her feet, and she felt the ground shift beneath her as she struggled to stand up again. Smoke billowed from the crater in the ice. There was no sign of the Colonel and Teal'c. Through the thick plumes, Carter could see signs of the Komekian's loading another rocket.

"My god," said Daniel hollowly, from behind her, "what do they think they're doing? They're going to blow a hole in the ice."

"Colonel?" Carter turned her attention to her radio. "Carter to O'Neill, can you read me?"

Nothing came back over the radio but the static crackle of dead air. Carter glanced at Daniel, who was staring at the point where they had last seen their colleagues with a fixed stare.

"Colonel, this is Carter," Sam repeated into the radio, "please come in."

Getting no answer, Carter raised her head enough over the hood of her snow crawler to be able to see what Grisk's men were doing. Apparently satisfied that they had ended the threat from the senior half of SG-1, the soldiers were now turning the rocket launcher in the direction of herself and Daniel. She could see the cruel-looking heads of the rockets sticking out of their housing, and felt her blood run cold. There was nowhere to run, she had nowhere to tell Daniel to go. The only apparatus at their disposal were four fuel-filled snow crawlers that would only make Grisk's job easier by exploding on impact.

Suddenly her frantic thought patterns were interrupted by Daniel, who grabbed her arm.

"I see them! There, look –"

Carter, squinting thorough the still-billowing grey smoke, spotted what Daniel had seen. O'Neill's cap, bobbing as the Colonel rolled to his feet. Her hand was on her radio at once.

"Colonel, come in. We –"

"_Get out of here, Carter_."

"We're coming back to get you and Teal'c."

"_Fall back, Carter, that's an order. Make it back to the SGC and bring reinforcements_."

"But sir –"

"_Don't argue with me, Major, just do it."_

"Colonel…" She hesitated. They'd never survive!

_ "__Teal'c__ and I will take refuge in the __Ha'tak__ until you bring help. __Because you'll be coming back to sort the ship out anyway.__ Won't you_?"

Carter glanced toward the Komekian line. The remaining soldiers had forsaken their shelter now, evidently confident in victory. She could see Grisk, clearly pleased with their progress, supervising the rocket launcher.

"We'll be back, sir."

"_Get out of here. Tell Daniel I want his translations done so he can bore me with them when we get back_."

Carter would have smiled if the situation hadn't been so very grim. Leaving them behind went against everything her personal moral code commanded, not to mention the one unswerving law that O'Neill himself had taught her… Don't go home without your team.

Daniel pulled at the sleeve of her BDUs, nodding in the direction of the rocket launcher. Grisk's men were clearly about to launch.

"The Colonel's ordered us back to the SGC." Carter swung a leg over the snow crawler, starting the engine in one smooth motion.

"We're just going to leave them here?"

"We aren't _just_ going to do anything, Daniel," Carter snapped, angry at the situation rather than his question. "They've called for reinforcements, and that's what we're going to do. Let's go before it's too late."

Sam saw Daniel pause, glancing back to where their two stranded friends stood on the other side of the crater.

"Come on, Daniel," she urged, "we've only got –"

Carter's words were cut off as Daniel started the engine of his snow crawler, and the two of them took off across the ice. Behind them came the whistle of a rocket being launched, a moment later impacting the ice where they had mounted the snow crawlers.

* * *

O'Neill heard Grisk's frustrated howl as Carter and Daniel escaped the hit that carved another dangerous hole in the face of the Plate. The Colonel smiled grimly, watching his two friends race through the threads of black smoke stringing across the white blankness of the ice floe.

"O'Neill," Teal'c voice came from his shoulder, "if we are to take shelter in the Ha'tak, we must do so immediately. I am finding it increasingly difficult to move."

Jack turned, glancing down at the blood dribbling from Teal'c's leg, leaving a bright stain in the snow. It was getting light, he realised. Privately, O'Neill knew that they were never going to make it to the Ha'tak. Looking at Teal'c, the Colonel saw that his friend knew it too. They may have been born decades and light years apart, but O'Neill and Teal'c shared a brain when it came to military matters.

"Well, it's worth a try," he pointed out.

"Indeed."

Nodding thoughtfully, O'Neill took Teal'c's arm, letting him rest his huge bulk on Jack's shoulder. Together, they moved as quickly as fatigue and injury would allow back toward the crevice. Behind them, across the now relatively quiet ice, O'Neill could hear Grisk calling angry orders to his men. The Komekian's own snow crawlers were useless, he knew, their tyres ripped to shreds by Carter's weapon. Even their hardwearing nature hadn't been enough for the spray of a P-90's discharge.

"Teal'c, any chance that the Ha'tak's armoury still has a few spare weapons up its sleeve? I haven't got much ammunition left here."

"As you say, O'Neill," sais his friend, "it is worth a try."

Jack nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over his shoulders as he calculated the distance to the crevice. This was certainly turning into a tough mission, though if by some fluke he and Teal'c managed to make it back into the Goa'uld ship they might have a slim chance of holding out until Carter alerted Hammond and sent reinforcements.

Behind them, Jack heard the shouts echoing closer, and a brief volley of alien gun-fire shattered the peace of the snow around their feet. He dived for cover, plunging into the nearest snow-drift, pulling Teal'c with him. The bullets continued to pour toward them.

"We're not going to make it to the Ha'tak, T."

"No, O'Neill."

"I don't wanna die on this ice cube."

Teal'c looked at him. "Then we must surrender, O'Neill. We will still live to fight another day."

O'Neill nodded reluctantly. "Guess you're right, Teal'c. Kinda sucks though, doesn't?"

He didn't wait for a reply, instead tentatively raising his hands into the air, palms held flat toward Grisk's men. The sound of boots thudding on ice reached his ears as they closed in, but no more shots were fired in their direction.

A shouted order rang out across the ice field, and O'Neill found himself confronted with two men. They dragged he and Teal'c upright, out of the snow, as Grisk approached.

"Watch it," O'Neill growled. "Teal'c's injured." He got no answer.

Grisk came to a stand-still in front of them, upper lip curling cruelly as he looked between O'Neill and Teal'c. At a flick of his head, the men holding them stripped the Colonel of his gun and radio and forced their hands behind their backs.

"Kneel."

"Oh, I don't do kneeling. It's not good for the knees and –" Jack's flippant words were cut off by a blow from behind that knocked him to the floor. He felt his damaged knee strike the hard compacted snow and schooled his face not to show the wince the impact caused.

"You and your team have killed six of my men in cold blood."

"We're trying to save your world, Grisk. You would have stuck us all in a cell where we can't do anything to help."

"Help? _Help?"_ Grisk snorted harshly, "if there is something wrong with the ship, which I doubt, then it is through your own sabotage. And as for saving this world – nothing could be further from your minds, I am sure. Now," the commander glanced back in the direction that Carter and Daniel had fled, "your companions will join you later. I have instructed my reinforcements to intercept them before they reach the Stargate."

"You've got to let them go, Grisk. If you hole Carter up in one of your little prisons –"

"I will not allow this outrage to go unpunished." Grisk sneered again, a cruel turning of his lip. "Say goodbye to your home planet, Colonel, I do not think you will be seeing it again. Not in this lifetime, anyway."

Grisk turned away, flicking his head toward his troops, who immediately closed in around the two SG-1 team members.

"Bring them," he called over his shoulder. "Since the Colonel was foolish enough to damage our equipment, we will have to walk the long path back to Barask. Don't make it easy for our guests."

O'Neill glanced up at his captors, seeing Mikas amongst the survivors. Something in him – a strange flash of relief, perhaps – registered gladness that the young man had not died in the firefight. The same feeling was not reflected in the eyes of the young soldier, who stared at the Colonel with barely disguised hate.

"I'm glad you're okay, Mikas," O'Neill said, truthfully.

The Komekian winced as his name floated on the cold air from Jack's mouth, and the fire in his eyes flashed again. "You killed Tomit and Ganeer," he said, the anger and grief in his eyes all too apparent. "We trained together. We served together. They were my _brothers_." Taking hold of O'Neill's now-cuffed hands, Mikas yanked the Colonel to his feet.

"I'm sorry."

"You came from your planet to destroy this world."

"No, we didn't." O'Neill winced in pain as Mikas tugged on his arms again, forcing him across the ice.

"Well, whatever your intentions, you will not succeed."

"Carter's got to stop what's going on in that ship, or you'll lose a lot more than two brothers in arms, Mikas."

"You are lying. Commander Grisk says that you wish to take possession of the ship in order to use it against Komek. You must not be allowed to set foot within it again."

"That's bull, Mikas. Look, I know it looks bad, but –" O'Neill winced as the cold metal of the cuffs cut into his blood supply, "but what happened back on the Ha'tak was an honest mistake. Now you've got to let us put it right, or all hell is going to break loose."

From ahead of them in the column, O'Neill saw Grisk turn and look back toward them.

"You will not speak again. You are a prisoner, and you must accept this. You have killed our men, and you will be punished."

O'Neill tried to engage the young man again, but every attempt was met with a strike across his back from the butt of Mikas' gun, and no other answer. Accepting temporary defeat, the Colonel turned to see how Teal'c was doing. He'd been restrained in the same fashion. Teal'c was struggling to disguise the discomfort caused by his leg, but O'Neill could see that he was in considerable pain. The wound had not stopped bleeding, either, leaving a bright trail in the snow churned up by their feet.

As he glanced back at his companion, Teal'c looked up, meeting O'Neill's eye with a brief nod. The Colonel felt the familiar swell of guilt. He wasn't even sure Teal'c would make it back to Barask.

O'Neill turned to concentrate on the path ahead once more, contemplating what course of action he could take from here on in. He only hoped that Carter and Daniel managed to beat the reinforcements that were even now heading for the 'gate. If Carter didn't make it back to her lab, they were all finished anyway.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	8. Chapter 8

**Preservation**

**  
** **Chapter Eight**

Sam Carter looked back across the ice toward Daniel, whose snow crawler was following doggedly in her tracks. They had lost sight of Grisk's makeshift camp now, and were well and truly out on the open Plate. Somewhere out there, Sam knew, a group of Komekian soldiers were speeding their way toward the 'gate, probably faster and more efficiently than they were. Carter wasn't even sure that they were going in the right direction – on an alien planet, it wasn't as if SG-1 could ever rely on compasses. Grisk had been so protective right from the start that his vague directions to the 'gate were probably none too reliable. Carter saw the Colonel's wisdom in ordering her to take her own calculations, which is what she was using to guide Daniel home now. Without them, they could be wandering on the Plate for days.

Slowing slightly, she allowed her Quad to fall level with Daniel's. He was preoccupied, and Carter knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself dwelling on the fate of the Colonel and Teal'c'. Say one thing for military training – it kept you cool in bad times.

"Daniel," Carter shouted over the growl of their engines. "How are you holding up?"

He didn't look at her, staring resolutely at the blank expanse of snow before them. "We shouldn't have left them. They could be dead by now."

"Don't think that way, Daniel. There's nothing we could have done to help except this."

Daniel looked at her for the first time, eyes shadowed and vaguely angry. "How do you do that?" he asked, with something approaching accusation in his voice. "How do you just turn it off?"

It hurt a little, the implication behind his question, but she wouldn't let him see that. Instead Carter held Daniel's eyes with her own, willing him to understand that it wasn't something she did lightly.

"I'm doing my job, Daniel. If I don't, we won't make it back to help them/." Without waiting for him to reply, the Major gunned her snow crawler again and pulled in front of Daniel, keeping her eyes on the ice before them. Who knew what lay beneath this thin veneer of fresh, still-falling snow.

* * *

Grisk marched at the head of his straggling column of soldiers; mind a mess of thoughts and vague images. Something in him wasn't right, but at the same time the soldier felt better than he ever had before. They had been marching at the same steady pace for four hours, and yet he felt no fatigue. By this point he would have expected the snow beneath his boots to be eating through to his feet, chilling him to the bone, but Grisk felt nothing.

Nothing but a faint, incessant pressure inside his mind, as if something were pushing its way in. It was slow but intrusive, and every now and then Grisk would find his mind wandering, as if something else had taken control of his body and was marching it relentlessly toward their destination.

Grisk paused, turning and surveying his following men to push the unpleasant loss of control from his thoughts. He was shocked at their bedraggled appearance. The commander had not realised that he had driven them so hard and so fast. They were clearly in need of rest, and Grisk could not understand how he could have neglected to give the order to stop. He was usually a faultless leader: he knew that he had a reputation for being hard, but he was equally known for being fair. Grisk could not understand leaders who drove their men into thoughtless exhaustion – for five minutes rest per hour, one could get far more attention and obedience from a soldier than by cracking the whip over his aching back eight hours into a day. And yet here he was, perpetrating that very method of leadership, and he could not quite remember why he had not called a halt.

"We will stop for rest," he shouted at his troops. "Fifteen minutes. Regain your breath, take a drink. Retain a close watch on the prisoners."

The relief that emanated from the troops was palpable, and Grisk was struck by a pang of guilt followed by a quick flash of anger. The situation with the Earth prisoners was making him neglect the men under his command, which was unforgivable. Suddenly needing an avenue by which to vent his anger, Grisk strode toward O'Neill and Teal'c, who had collapsed in the snow and were attempting to ease their tired muscles.

"Hey Grisk," O'Neill greeted him, still refusing to act as a cowed prisoner should, "how about a drink of water? We're dying here."

Grisk noted that Teal'c had paled somewhat, and a harsh flash off pleasure needled through him. Let them suffer, he thought, let them suffer until they die if needs be.

"We are but two hours from Barask, O'Neill. I'm sure that you can hold up until then."

He wasn't blind to the dislike in the Colonel's eyes as his prisoner looked at him. "Okay, I can last – but let Teal'c have something. He's injured, and this march isn't easy on a fit man, let alone a sick one."

"You would ask mercy for one in your command?"

"Yes. He is injured."

"He gave no mercy to the two soldiers he gunned down without warning."

"He was following my orders, Grisk," O'Neill countered wearily, "Just as your men were when they shot him."

"Then his blood is on your head, not mine."

"If you had stopped to listen to me in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"None of it? Not even the 'mistake' your Major made inside the ship?"

"We could have fixed that. It's only a problem now because you didn't let us."

"Nonsense."

O'Neill made a frustrated, tired sound in his throat. "Look, this is clearly just going to go around in circles, because you're too stubborn to listen or accept that you might be wrong. So let's just leave it, shall we? I'll wait until the SGC manages to get some sort of message through to your government. Maybe it'll even be in time to stop your world being destroyed."

Grisk snorted, sensing a place to press his advantage over the prisoners. "You still have such blind faith in your colleagues, I'm touched. But I'm sorry to have to say – actually, no, I'm not sorry in the least. I'm quite happy to break this to you, Colonel. The team from Barask sent to intercept the escaping prisoners radioed me some time ago. They were successful in their mission – though you should be proud of Major Carter and Daniel Jackson. They did in fact manage to reach the Stargate, and were dialling Earth when my men caught up with them." He paused, gauging O'Neill's reaction. He was once again grudgingly impressed. The man had brought down a barrier as tough as the ice beneath their feet. Grisk, however, would enjoy the chance to shatter it later, and suspected that his 'news' would go some way to starting that process. "They fought, of course, though they should have just surrendered. But at least you know they died fighting. That must be some consolation, eh, Colonel?"

O'Neill made no reply. Any sign of emotion that the colonel may be feeling, Grisk noted, was carefully schooled into impassivity as he stared back at the commander. The man would clearly be a tough one to break. But that would simply mean more reward in the extraction of remorse. O'Neill was responsible for the deaths of good, faithful Komekian men. He would be made to understand the weight of his deeds.

"So, enjoy your rest, Colonel. We move out again shortly." Turning, Grisk left O'Neill to his strictly private grief, once again striding across the snow toward the head of the column. O'Neill was silent once he had left, and betrayed nothing obvious in his demeanour that would suggest a man that had just received news of the most shocking order.

* * *

Teal'c, discreet as ever, watched O'Neill's stance as the order came to march once more. The colonel's shoulders were hunched, his face impassive but grey. To an outsider he may simply have seemed quiet, but to Teal'c, who had fought beside this man for seven years on many different planets, the signs of buried grief and tortuous self-recrimination were all too plain.

"O'Neill," Teal'c called softly, the pain in his leg now threatening to overwhelm him. Damn the frailty of humanity. There were times, though the ex-Jaffa would never admit it, when he sometimes thought it had been a mistake to take Tritonin. It made him vulnerable, a trait the warrior had not had to face for a long time.

The Colonel heard him and turned back, though his hands remained restrained behind his back.

"How are you holding up, Teal'c?" He asked.

"I am as well as can be expected, O'Neill. What of you?"

O'Neill paused before answering, staring back ahead of them into the distance. A speck on the horizon indicated that at last, there was an end to their journey in sight.

"Fine, T. Just trying to work out what we're going to do without back up."

Teal'c nodded. Without a rescue from forces alerted by the return of Major Carter and Daniel Jackson, their prospects were particularly grim.

"I shouldn't have sent them back, Teal'c," O'Neill spoke up suddenly. "I should have let her try that damn fool rescue, and maybe we all would have made it."

"Or perhaps, O'Neill, we all would have ended up dead."

"Yeah, well, there's no point dwelling on it now," said O'Neill, a darkness passing through his eyes as they met Teal'c's once more.

Knowing that the best way to deflect his friend from the dark bent of his thoughts was to make him concentrate on something else, Teal'c raised his voice again.

"I do not know for how much longer I can continue without assistance, O'Neill. The pain in my leg is great."

The colonel's head snapped back toward his colleague at Teal'c's words, eyes roaming over his blood-soaked fatigues and ashen pallor. Teal'c saw the determined look that he had been hoping for pass once more through O'Neill's eyes. Turning, the colonel addressed his guard in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Mikas, this is bullshit. Teal'c's not going to make it back to Grisk's house of horrors without help. So either tell your commander that or sort it out yourself. Or shall I start hollering?"

Mikas glanced up to where Grisk was still relentlessly leading the march toward Barask. From where he continued to trudge behind O'Neill, Teal'c could see the young soldier trying to decide what to do. His face was anxious, full of fear, and Teal'c reflected that Grisk's method of control was similar to the Goa'uld. Make your troops fear your wrath, dispense kindness as a bribe. It was no way to treat men who were expected to die for you in an instant.

"I can't do that, Colonel. Grisk would –"

"So what then?" Asked O'Neill, his angry voice rising a notch or two. "Shall I start shouting? Disrupt this nice little monotonous march we've got going? Show just how incapable you are of controlling a prisoner?"

The soldier's face showed signs of panic as Grisk half-turned at O'Neill's low-level disturbance.

"Just let me help Teal'c walk, Mikas, that's all you have to do. We're not going to run. Hell, where would we go, even if we could?"

Relenting, though obviously not through any sense of compassion, Mikas un-cuffed the Colonel. He also persuaded Teal'c's captor to re-cuff his prisoner with his hands in front, easing Teal'c's muscles and allowing him better balance as he leant against O'Neill.

"That's better," muttered the Colonel, as they moved forward in a blessedly easier fashion, "damn goons can't do anything on their own initiative."

Teal'c did not answer, struggling not to succumb to a wave of nausea and faintness that threatened to overcome him. He may have used his injury as a distraction for O'Neill, but the problems it was causing him were genuinely severe. It would not be long before he could walk no further, and would perhaps lose consciousness altogether.

* * *

General George Hammond leaned anxiously over Sergeant Davis' shoulder, watching the dialling computer register the progress of the spinning 'gate before them as the warning klaxons rang in his ears. As yet there had been no IDC code, and there were no SG teams due back for another 48 hours. As such, an unscheduled incoming traveller was enough to churn the General's stomach.

"We're getting a code," Davis said suddenly. "It's SG-1, General."

"Open the iris," Hammond ordered immediately. "They're not due back for another three days – get a medical team up here stat."

Hammond left Davis' side and ran down the steps to the gate room, hearing the sound of his orders being carried out as he went. He refused his mind permission to speculate on what had happened to bring his flagship team home so early. _No point jumping to conclusions, George, just pray that they're all coming back in one piece. _

He entered the 'gate room as the iris finished retracting, allowing the blue shimmer of the 'gate to add animation to the cold grey concrete room. Several seconds passed before anything happened, and when it did it was in a flurry of movement. Two figures were flung through the event horizon like lava erupting from a volcano, landing in a heap and a heavy clang on the hard 'gate ramp.

"Close the iris!" came a shout from one of the figures, and Hammond's heart sank. Only two arriving home in a state like this was a bad sign, particularly where SG-1 were concerned. Hammond had never had such a tight-knit team under his command.

Jackson was nursing his shoulder, and Carter sported various bruises to her face, not to mention a very nasty red weal on one hand.

"Major? What happened? Are you ok? Where are Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c?"

The Major forced herself to her feet, evidently in pain and severely exhausted. There was a wild, panicked look in her eyes that disappeared as she met Hammond's gaze and deliberately calmed herself so that she could deliver a clear report.

"General, the situation on Komek turned very hostile. Teal'c was injured, and Colonel O'Neill ordered Doctor Jackson and myself back to the 'gate." She paused, swallowing, "We left them under enemy fire, sir."

Hammond's heart sank. If Jack O'Neill had ordered half his team to leave an injured man behind in enemy territory, then the situation would have to be about as bad as it gets.

"It looks like you didn't have it easy getting back, Major."

"No, sir, they ordered troops to intercept us at the 'gate. We managed to get through, but only just," she glanced down, a look of despair crossing her face. "I don't know how we're going to get back, General. The 'gate is heavily guarded, and I doubt they'll leave it now."

"Right. Well, report to the infirmary and get yourself cleaned up and then come to my office for a debrief. We will open the 'gate again and send a probe through, see what the situation is."

"Sir, with respect, there's no time."

Hammond, who had turned away, turned back with surprise.

"Major, you know I can't authorise a rescue mission without knowing more."

"Sir, that's not our biggest problem."

"Oh?"

"No, sir. I need to be debriefed immediately, General. I've only got," she looked at her watch, "sixty seven hours to stop Komek from being destroyed completely."

* * *

Some time later, having cleared the minimum health and safety checks that she could get away with before getting down to work, Sam Carter sat tucked away in her laboratory. Her head ached, troubled by the weight of her conscience and concern over the welfare of her two stranded colleagues. As a result, for this particular problem solving session she preferred to work alone. She'd caused the problem, after all, and it was her responsibility to solve it. No one understood the importance of duty more keenly than Sam Carter.

She continued to stare at the blueprints, tracing her fingers along the power lines, hoping to find a breach where the power could have looped from the life support systems to other areas of the ship. So far an answer had eluded her. Sam Carter, trapped in a rare scientific corner, was stumped. She glanced at her watch, stomach turning over at the relentlessly passing hours, and reached for her coffee, grimacing as the long-cold fluid touched her lips. Putting it down again, Sam rubbed both hands through her hair.

"Way to go, Carter," she muttered to herself despondently. "Only you could screw up so spectacularly. Wouldn't Dad be proud now?"

Her depressed reverie was broken by a discreet knock, and she looked up to see Daniel standing in her open doorway. He held two mugs of freshly steaming coffee, and offered a small smile as he held them up.

"I come bearing a peace offering."

"A peace offering?" Sam slid from her chair, hastily making space for her visitor on another by moving a pile of papers from its seat.

"Well, I was pretty hard on you out there on The Plate," said Daniel, handing her one of the drinks and sitting down. "I'm sorry. I know you don't find it as easy to shut it off as it seems."

Sam smiled wearily, gratefully taking a sip of the hot coffee. In truth she'd already forgotten her friend's brief outburst during their flight across the ice floe. "It's okay, Daniel. I guess I'm so used to you being with us on missions nowadays that I sometimes forget you haven't had all the same training." She shrugged, looking down at the table. "In that sort of situation, you just have to make it through. You were my responsibility, I had to carry out the orders that Colonel O'Neill had given me to the best of my ability. There wasn't any point in dwelling on their situation. Not right then, anyway."

"I know. And like I said, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't mean that I don't care."

"I know that too. How are you coming on with the solution?"

Sam put her coffee down with a sigh, looking at the blueprints again. "I must be missing something, but I just can't see what it is. As far as I'm concerned, I stand by what I told the Colonel. This shouldn't have been possible. There's no reason why it's done what it's done. It shouldn't be _happening_."

"And yet…"

Sam sighed, drumming her fingers anxiously on the laboratory bench. "And yet, something must have tripped somewhere, or we wouldn't be in this mess. It's times like this I really miss the Tok'ra alliance. If I could talk to my Dad, and Selmak, I'm sure they'd have a better idea of what's going on here."

Daniel stood, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll figure it out in time, Sam."

"But that's just what I don't have, isn't it? Time."

"I should leave you to it then, I guess. I wish I could help, Sam."

"It's not your problem, Daniel," she smiled again wanly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I'm the one who screwed up here. I've got to figure it out. And quickly."

"Hammond's trying to negotiate with the Komekian government, you know that, don't you?"

Sam nodded, refusing to let herself think about that possibility. They didn't even know whether their two team mates were still alive, not that she would voice this doubt to Daniel. She wouldn't get her hopes up, she simply couldn't afford to. She was distracted from her objective enough as it was. Turning back to her blueprints, she glanced up at Daniel.

"Thank you for the coffee, Daniel, but –"

"But you want me to go away and let you get on with saving the world?" Daniel smiled. "I'm gone. But you know where I am if you need me."

"Thanks." As he turned to leave, something occurred to her. "Uh, Daniel? Have you started translating what you brought back yet?"

"You think it'll help you?"

"The more I look at these blueprints, the more I'm convinced that this is something I couldn't possibly have foreseen. That maybe they did something to their own ship – and if that's the case, there might be some indication of what in those hieroglyphs you found." She paused at Daniel's uncertain gaze. "I know it's a long shot, Daniel, but I'll take anything I've got right now."

Daniel nodded, heading for the door. "I'm on it, Sam. If there's anything there to find, I'll find it, I promise."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	9. Chapter 9

**Preservation**

**  
** **Chapter Nine**

He could hear a murmuring, like a constant tattoo in the background. It rose and fell, sometimes almost reaching a crescendo, other times softly brushing against his eardrums like rain. Teal'c lay, not opening his eyes, listening to the sound.

After a few minutes he became aware that he was laying on a hard surface, and tried to remember where he was. The last thing the warrior could recall was trudging through the snow of the Plate with O'Neill beside him, the bleak walls of Barask rising in their sights and a heady pain searing his leg.

"O'Neill?" Teal'c muttered, though whatever strength he had been preserving seemed to have dissipated and the words almost failed to reach past his lips. There was a quick movement, however, a shuffling of feet and air as someone came toward him.

"Teal'c? You awake, buddy?" O'Neill's voice spoke quietly into his ear, very close.

"O'Neill, what –"

"It's ok. You passed out – we're in Barask. How you feeling? You've been out for hours."

Slowly, Teal'c forced his eyes open. The darkness was not much less on the outside of his eyelids, though after a few moments he could make out O'Neill crouching by his side. The wound in his leg was burning with a dull intensity, the pain seemingly working it's way up to his thigh. His head ached, though not as badly as it might have done. Teal'c tried to move, and O'Neill immediately offered his assistance, sliding an arm beneath his back to help him up.

"Sure you're okay to move?"

"I will be fine, O'Neill."

"There's nothing to sit on. You'll have to lean against the wall."

The time it took for Teal'c to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position with the wall as a brace gave his eyes a chance to adjust to their dull surroundings. They were in a cell complex, a row of barred and semi-open rooms lined up together. Through the forward bars of their own cell, Teal'c could make out some heavy-duty metal steps leading up and out of sight.

"We are in the lower level of Barask," he muttered.

"Yeah, seems that way. Grisk ordered us here as soon as we arrived back at the base. Scumbag didn't even get someone to check you over." O'Neill moved away for a moment, returning with an old battered tin cup, full of water. "Here, drink some of this. It's not spring fresh, but it'll do the trick."

Teal'c took a mouthful of the offered water, nose wrinkling at its faintly sour taste. He forced himself to finish the contents of the cup, nodding his thanks to O'Neill.

"How long have we been captive here?" he asked, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes again as his head began to spin.

"A couple of hours, I think. Bastards took my watch. Took just about everything, in fact."

Teal'c nodded, hearing the murmuring that he had heard on first regaining consciousness. Opening his eyes again, he realised for the first time that they were not alone in the cells. In the dimness, Teal'c could just make out another group of prisoners, separated from them by one empty cell. O'Neill saw the movement of his gaze.

"They seem to be the only other people down here," said the colonel. "It's that group of protestors. Grisk's stuck them down here to rot, as far as I can make out. I've been speaking to their leader, Toram. He doesn't think that Grisk has even informed the civil authorities that he's arrested them."

"That does not bode well for us."

"No, it doesn't." O'Neill sat down next to Teal'c, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. "I've been trying to figure out what to do. To be honest, it doesn't seem as if we have many options. This place isn't going to be the easiest place to break out of."

Reaching down, Teal'c felt the area where his leg was most painful. Realising it had been heavily bandaged, he examined the dressing and discovered that O'Neill had used his undershirt.

"I appreciate your efforts, O'Neill, but you should not have used your garments."

"I had to stem the bleeding, Teal'c."

"This place is unlikely to be properly insulated against the cold of the Plate, O'Neill. You will likely require all the layers of clothing you can get."

"Well, T, I can move around to keep warm, unlike you. And you really were bleeding heavily. I don't think you could have lost much more."

Teal'c nodded, knowing that O'Neill was right. He felt light headed still, and knew that his health was not going to improve any time soon. Certainly not as a result of any natural healing – another poor aspect of losing his symbiote. Had he still been implanted with the infant Goa'uld, the healing process would have already started. As it was, he was going to have to find a way to cope without the unnatural help that still seemed all too natural to him.

Shifting slightly in an attempt to ease the aching, Teal'c looked up at O'Neill once more. "You have determined no course of action for us to take, O'Neill?"

"Not yet, Teal'c." O'Neill sighed, scuffing the heels of his boots across the dirty floor of the cell. "I'll come up with something."

"We evidently do not have long to do so, O'Neill. If Major Carter and Daniel Jackson," at the mention of their lost colleagues, Teal'c saw the colonel's eyebrows knit briefly, "have not made it back to the SGC, then no one is working on the malfunction of the Ha'tak. It is down to us to stop the catastrophe that will otherwise befall this planet."

"I know, Teal'c, I know. I just haven't figured out how we're going to do that yet."

"We must think swiftly."

O'Neill nodded. "The other thing is, Teal'c, that even if we manage to get out of here – I can't honestly see us going very far with your leg as it is. That's a serious wound, and you've lost a lot of blood."

Teal'c steeled himself against the flush of anger and frustration he felt at O'Neill's words. He knew it was true, but he refused to acknowledge that he was less able than he had been as a Jaffa. He would not let O'Neill down – let what was now the memory of SG-1 down – by being unable to carry out his duties in the immediate.

He was about to open his mouth and voice these sentiments when a noise reached them from outside the cell. It was the sound of strong locks being unfastened, heavy bolts being drawn back. O'Neill stood, moving to the front of the cell to get a better look at who was descending the stairs. One of the figures Teal'c recognised as Mikas, the other was an unknown guard. They approached the cell, addressing O'Neill through the bars.

"Commander Grisk has given us orders to bring you to him."

"What, he doesn't want to get his hands dirty by coming down here to us?" O'Neill spat the words out in distaste, aiming them at Mikas.

"Commander Grisk wanted you to know that allowing you out of your cells to see him was a courtesy that you do not deserve," Mikas replied coldly. "You are welcome to stay where you are Colonel, but you will not get the same offer twice."

O'Neill turned, glancing at Teal'c. "All right. We'll come. Get us out of this damn cell."

As Mikas inserted a heavy key into the cell lock, the Colonel returned to Teal'c's side and helped the big man to his feet. Teal'c felt the nausea that had assaulted him on the Plate wash over him again, but was determined not to let it get the better of him a second time.

"You okay?"

"I am fine, O'Neill."

"Right. Let's see what Grisk has to say for himself, then."

* * *

The ticking of the clock and the turning of dry, dusty pages were the only noises in Daniel Jackson's office as the archaeologist studied the material he had brought back from Komek. Settling down to begin the task of translation, Daniel had been surprised by the volume of recording and samples he had managed to get his hands on before the order had come for them to evacuate.

Now, after several hours of poring over reference guides and his own previous research, he was bone tired. Sighing, Daniel removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying not to let his mind stray toward what may or may not have happened to Jack and Teal'c back there on the Plate. That image of Jack with his hand raised in a strangely calm gesture of farewell across the smoking crater was still hovering on the edges of his consciousness. And if something had happened to Jack, then there was no way that Teal'c had survived. The former Jaffa was tough, but he was only human now, and he was badly injured.

Replacing his glasses, Daniel shut his eyes and clenched his hands on the edge of his desk. It was times like this he wished he could be more like Sam. The scientist in her was so focused, so determined to reach the goal she had set herself, that she could set aside the natural distress she must be feeling beneath it all at Jack and Teal'c's fate. Sam could somehow take all the thoughts that must mirror the ones Daniel himself was having and push them far to the back of her mind while she worked. This is the same thing that we went through with Sam in the previous scene.

Maybe there was something to be said for military training after all. Daniel smiled at himself slightly. Jack O'Neill must be rubbing off on him. Seven years ago, the archaeologist would never have even entertained such a possibility.

Pulling his focus back to the task at hand, Jackson looked at the prints he had taken from his footage of the record room on the Ha'tak again. Frowning, he laid them out one by one, exactly as they had appeared on the golden walls inside the ship. The translation itself was proving to be fairly easy – though unfortunately for Sam, Daniel had found no mention of any ship's repairs or willing sabotage that could explain her current predicament with the Ha'tak's systems.

In fact, the hieroglyphs seemed to be a straight-forward description of the ship's last journey. Daniel knew that this was the case, because having translated the first part of the inscription, the archaeologist could be sure that the introduction read: '_Behold this, the true record of this ship's flight, the last in service from Earth for the Great Crocodile God Sobek, he who has the power to return sight to the dead_.' Sometimes, Daniel was thankful that the Goa'uld were as narcissistic as they were. It quite often saved any confusions in translation, to have your subjects be so blatant and over-blown about their position in their own society. But conversely, this was what was also causing Daniel the problem in translation, for he could not accurately ascertain the dates of these inscriptions.

"If that was Sobek's First Prime on the Ha'tak," Daniel murmured to himself, "and the Jaffa died on that ship, then surely Teal'c would have known something about that? Surely that would have been a remarkable event in Goa'uld history? Or even simply Jaffa history? Wouldn't the Goa'uld make it into a shining example of Jaffa sacrifice in service to their gods?"

What had confused Daniel further was that following on from the introduction, the account detailed the fact that the Ha'tak had left Earth's orbit with 'great cunning and stealth'. It seemed bizarre to Daniel that the Goa'uld and his Jaffa would exert so much energy in fleeing Earth covertly when they must have returned sometime later. And since the power vacuum left by Sobek's absence had not been filled on Earth – or at least, Daniel could not find a Goa'uld in his knowledge of the parasites' bloody history that may have ascended into the space left by Sobek's departure, then Sobek must have returned fairly quickly.

"So why did he leave at all?" Daniel asked himself, taking a mouthful of coffee and drumming his fingers against the desk top. "And if this ship went down during that flight, how did he get back? Why didn't he take his Jaffa with him? Because he must have gone back," here, Daniel stood, beginning to pace absently in front of his chalkboard, the motion a customary aid to his thinking, "because at some point after this he fell victim to Bastet and Kali…"

Daniel's pondering was interrupted by General Hammond, who arrived in the doorway to the archaeologist's office with a tightly controlled expression on his face. In Daniel's experience, this meant bad news.

"General. How are negotiations going with Komek?"

"Not good I'm afraid, son. They've already been 'briefed' by Commander Grisk, and not in our favour. It didn't help that we killed six of their men."

"We didn't have much choice, General."

"I know that, Doctor Jackson, but they don't. Grisk is apparently a highly decorated veteran on their world. If this situation was in reverse, it would be like me taking the word of a hostile stranger over the word of Colonel O'Neill."

Daniel nodded, unwilling to ask the next obvious question but forcing himself to anyway. "And Jack and Teal'c? Are they –"

"They're alive, and in custody at Barask. That's why I came down here to tell you myself. Thought it might brighten your day a little."

The archaeologist nodded, any happiness brought by the news violently tempered by other worries. The other half of SG-1 weren't out of trouble yet. "They're not going to let them come back to the SGC though, are they?"

Hammond glanced at the floor, shaking his head slowly. "At the moment the Komekian government are insisting that Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c stand trial for what they see as crimes against Komek in one of their own courts."

"What, and they just ignored the fact that this time tomorrow, there aren't going to be any courts left standing?"

"They aren't accepting what I'm telling them, Doctor Jackson, and until I can persuade them otherwise, then there is nothing that I can do. They're sending their own scientists to check out the situation… all we can hope is that they get there fast, and verify Major Carter's assessment."

"And what if they don't, General? What if they just don't believe us? What do we do then?"

Hammond paused again. "We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, son. And personally I'm hoping I'll have found another way across the river before we get that far."

* * *

Grisk heard the clang of heavy footsteps echoing against the metal outside his door and opened his eyes. The room was dark – he had turned down the lights, suddenly sensitive to the glare of Barask's artificial illumination. The commander's head ached, a pain that had spread from the base of his skull to his forehead, a red-hot poker lodged in his head.

Whatever illness he was suffering from, it was getting worse. The periods in which he experienced memory loss were growing more frequent, and the pressure in his brain, which felt as if someone were pushing against his skull from within, was incessant. Grisk had discovered that if he suppressed his thinking, the pressure was less. He was not sure whether this deliberate thoughtlessness was what precipitated the periods of unconsciousness, however, and so he had attempted to limit the time he spent avoiding the pressure. It was getting increasingly difficult to live with the feeling of expansion within his mind, however, and Grisk found that with every passing hour the pressure was growing, a dark, painful, malevolent weight that he wanted to ignore.

There was a knock on the door, and Grisk realised that it must have been one of several. His concentration had wandered again. He had lost his way. With difficulty, Grisk stood, flicking on the lights as high as he could bear and assuming a pose which exuded an attitude he was fast finding impossible to maintain.

"Come!"

O'Neill entered first, looking weary but still maintaining his customary defiance in the set of his jaw. Then, as Teal'c entered behind him, Grisk felt something shift within him. Gripping the back of his chair to centre him, the commander looked again at O'Neill's companion, also evidently weakened by his experiences on the Plate. There was something different about him, something somehow – familiar. The harsh strip lighting of the interrogation room glanced off the gold emblem upon his bare forehead, and Grisk experienced a sensation like falling very far, very fast. A sense of realisation from within that was not his own. And then it fled, completely. The pressure in his mind receded, and the fog that had clouded his thoughts all through their trek home across the Plate disappeared. Grisk felt weak, but triumphant. Perhaps his determination to free Komek from the would-be oppressions of Earth had beaten whatever sickness he had been battling.

He realised he had been staring for several moments and mentally shook himself. Now was not the time for self-congratulation. O'Neill would doubtless exploit anything he could to gain control in this situation once more. Grisk had no intention of letting that happen.

"Colonel. How good to see you looking so well."

"What do you want, Grisk?"

The commander raised his eyebrows. "Now, now, Colonel, I would have expected you to be a little more polite. I have allowed you to leave your cell, after all."

"Oh yeah, Grisk, Teal'c and I are eternally grateful." O'Neill glanced toward his companion, who was regarding Grisk with what seemed to be his entire attention. "Teal'c could do with some medical attention. Or is that too much to ask?"

Grisk glanced at Tealc. He looked pale, and had been favouring one leg as he entered. Now though, Grisk noted the harsh set of the warrior's jaw, the hard stare with which his eyes met the commander's own.

"We'll have to see how well you behave under questioning, Colonel."

"Questioning?"

"Of course. Why else would I bother to bring you back here? I could have left you out there with Major Carter and Doctor Jackson – or should I say, the _remains_ of Major Carter and Doctor Jackson. But no, I didn't want to waste all that intelligence you're hiding. I want to know what Earth's plans are for Komek."

"Earth doesn't_ have_ any plans for Komek."

"You expect me to believe that? After all that happened on that ship?"

"Grisk, what happened on the ship was an accident. And what is going to happen to Komek next – and to us, since you've murdered our only hope, as far as I can see, of stopping it – is down to your own stupidity, not Earth's."

"Really, Colonel, you think too little of me. Are you still spouting this weak environmental angle? I must move those other prisoners from down there. The weather is getting warmer and they could do with some fresh air. And they are clearly being a very poor influence on you."

Grisk saw O'Neill's jaw clench. "This isn't a ploy, Grisk. This is real."

"Do you know what I think, O'Neill? I think that ship down there is one of Earth's own. I think that this story you told our governors about a parasitic race of dominators is false, and that you intend – or intended, I should say, to use it to move against Komek –"

"What? Oh, for crying out loud, that's –"

The commander raised his own voice to cover O'Neill's interruption. "And I'm sorry, Colonel - but you have failed."

"Grisk you're an idiot."

"And you, Colonel, are a dead man walking."

"Yeah, you know what? Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Because this time tomorrow, the same will go for you. And everyone you ever cared about will be dead or dying, and you'll know, with your dying thought, that you could have stopped this, Grisk. You could have stopped it. Get us out of here," O'Neill growled, his disgust evident. "Take us back to our cells – I'll get more sense out of the walls than I will out of you, you stupid son of a bitch."

"You can go back to your cell, Colonel, but don't think that you can rest. I will discover what plans your planet has hatched against Komek, and I'll do it in any way I can."

"Well then, you'd better be quick, that's all I can say."

Grisk smiled nastily. "I'll be a as quick – or as slow – as I like, Colonel." Turning toward the door, he shouted for the two guards. Mikas' was the first to appear. "Take them back to the cell's. And prepare an interrogation chamber, I'm bored with all this pointless talk."

The door had barely shut behind them when the commander felt a terrific pain in his head that knocked him to his knees, forcing the breath from his body. The pressure that had gone so swiftly earlier pushed his way into his mind with the unfettered force of a tidal wave, so quickly and so thoroughly that even the panic Grisk felt was obliterated. Something other than his own mind rushed to fill his thoughts, a jumble of triumphant images playing through a part of the soldier's brain that was no longer his own. And at the forefront of these images was the figure of Teal'c, standing defiantly before his captor, gold badge of First Prime gleaming proudly on his forehead.

* * *

The cell door clanged shut, the sound echoing off the cold, empty walls. Jack turned immediately, grabbing the bars in anger.

"Hey! Get someone to look at Teal'c's leg. Mikas! Are you listening to me? What are you, a goddamn animal? Mikas!"

The young man glanced back but did not answer as he and his companion left, moving up the stairs and out of sight. As helpless as he had ever been in his life, O'Neill felt the rage and frustration begin to spill over his usually careful control. They were going to die, he and Teal'c, alongside the millions of innocent people on Barask. And for this awful moment, he wasn't even sure he cared anymore.

Grisk's attitude, his patent disbelief of anything the colonel had been trying to tell him, was a million times more frustrating than listening to one of Carter's scientific explanations had once been. And the thought of his two courageous colleagues, their bodies left to the ravages of the Plate rather than garnering the respect in death they deserved, made him even angrier. I still think he'd be suspicious of Grisk's story. O'Neill raged against their current predicament, slamming his booted feet into the heavy set of the bars surrounding them, feeling the shocks of impact rocket up his legs to be absorbed by his spent knees. He slammed his shoulders against the same bars, feeling the anger and guilt about Daniel and Sam's deaths race across his neck, even as he realised that Teal'c's death as well as his own were imminent.

"O'Neill." Teal'c's voice came from behind him, where the warrior had moved to sit against the wall. O'Neill ignored it, continuing to beat the bars that held them as if he could break out of Barask through sheer personal force.

"O'Neill," came his companion's voice again, as calm and measured as ever. "O'Neill, you must stop."

"They brought this on themselves, Teal'c. Why should we help them? Why should we care that they're all going to die?"

There was a brief silence before Teal'c's calm voice again filled the small cell. "I do not believe that Daniel Jackson or Samantha Carter would have approved of such an attitude, O'Neill. They would have insisted on trying to help the people of Komek, even at the expense of their own lives."

Jack shut his eyes at his friend's words, leaning against the bars with a sudden exhaustion saturating his bones. "Yeah, well, a conscience is always a bit of a burden for a soldier."

"Which is why we both benefited from Daniel Jackson's civilian sensibilities and Major Carter's intelligence."

"The smart half of the team, huh?"

"Our consciences, as you put it. Without them here, we must still try and put into practice what they would have us do. And I believe that if they were here now, they would be working on a way to stop the imminent disaster."

O'Neill nodded, his rage receding back into the emotional box in which he kept it. Turning, he crossed the short space to sit beside Teal'c.

"I'm still not sure how we're going to do that, Teal'c. Even if we got to the Ha'tak, how the hell are you and I going to stop what's happening to it? We've already established that the brains of our operation aren't in this room."

"We have another problem, O'Neill."

Jack felt his eyebrows lift. "Hit me, Teal'c. This day can't get much worse."

"I fear that it already has. Grisk is now Goa'uld."

O'Neill stared blankly at his friend. "He can't be."

"I felt it as we entered our audience with him, O'Neill. I had sensed something earlier, but was in no way sure. Now I am. The parasite hid as soon as we entered the room – it may have recognised me as Jaffa."

"The Goa'uld is hiding? Why would it do that?"

"If it has been submerged with the Ha'tak for a prolonged period of time it may be weak. It could be resting, recovering slowly before showing itself. This may also be the reason that I could not sense it immediately. I do not believe that Grisk is aware of the creature's presence either. It does not seem to have complete control over him yet."

"Oh, this is just great. This day just gets better and better." O'Neill stood, beginning to pace up and down in the confined space of the cell. "How the hell didn't Carter sense it? And where did the damn snake come from? I –" he stopped.

"O'Neill?"

"Oh, shit." Jack turned, staring at Teal'c.

"You have recalled something?"

"You and Daniel found a room that used to have a sarcophagus, right?"

"Indeed, O'Neill. It had been removed. We assumed to another ship, probably with someone within it."

O'Neill shook his head, starting to pace again. "No, Teal'c. Grisk found it."

"The sarcophagus?"

"Yeah, though he said it was empty. Nothing in it but dust. Guess he was lying."

There was silence for a moment as both men contemplated the weight of the colonel's words.

"Dammit. I should have checked that out. But then all hell broke out on the bridge and Carter couldn't stop it –"

"I doubt that there is anything you could have done, O'Neill."

"I could have shot him. Killed the bastard. He had it coming anyway, and now –"

"His guards would not have allowed that. And however weak the Goa'uld within him was, it would have been alert to the need for self preservation. This is not your fault, O'Neill."

"No? I should never have let him go alone."

"I cannot see how you could have persuaded him otherwise."

O'Neill moved back to his seated position next to Teal'c, leaning his head against the wall in defeat. "So what do we do now? What does it want?"

"I am sure we will find out soon enough."

O'Neill nodded, glancing back toward the bars. "We can't hang around to find out, T. We've got to find a way out of here."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	10. Chapter 10

**Preservation** **  
** **Chapter Ten**

Carter felt her eyelids dropping toward sleep, and glanced at her watch. Three-thirty a.m. She'd been at this for ten hours straight, and still hadn't made any progress. The Major felt as if she was going round and round in circles, and getting nowhere.

Sliding from her stool, Sam stretched methodically, willing her exhausted body to recover enough for her to continue working on the problem. Her arms ached along with her head, and her legs felt like lead.

Reaching across her desk, Carter grabbed a couple of wake-me-up pills and swallowed them with a swift gulp of water before resuming her brief exercise routine.

Arms outstretched, Sam rotated them in small circles as she forced her sluggish blood back into movement. She shut her eyes and allowed her thoughts to stray to her stranded colleagues. Hammond's news had caused a riot of joy in her gut, before the realisation hit that the people in danger on Komek were no longer faceless potential allies, but her own friends. Even now, after hours of thinking about it, she wasn't sure if it was better that she knew they were alive or not. Sam felt a rising tide of panic over her inability to find a solution to the problem, and now that she had people of her own to worry about, the fear was intensely magnified. Standing in the centre of her small private laboratory, stretching muscles that needed days of sleep to recover, Carter's mind was filled with the terrifying thought that this time, she would fail. That this time, her luck would run out.

Carter stopped stock still where she stood, blood pumping through her heart in an erratic frenzy. She couldn't fail. It wasn't an option. She had to go back for them; she had to save all those millions of people. No matter what it took, Sam would have to crack this mystery. A failure with such colossal consequences was simply not an option that she could entertain.

Limbs stretched and feeling alive again, Sam turned back to her task, and was just about to sit when there was a knock at her door. The sharp sound cut through the thick silence of her lab like a gunshot, making her jump. She spoke over her shoulder without turning.

"Hi Daniel."

"How did you know it was me?"

"It's 3 a.m."

"Right." Daniel walked in with an armful of paper and Sam hurriedly cleared a space on her desk.

"So what have you found?" She asked.

"Well, I'm no engineer, but to me this looks like it could explain your problem." Daniel tapped a finger on one piece of paper, over which were scrawled a mass of untidy notes.

"Don't keep me in suspense, Daniel."

"Okay, well. There are still a lot of finer details that I need to add to this, but I've uncovered a few things that are beginning to worry me."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "Worry you?"

The archaeologist moved closer, leaning against the table as he pointed once more to his notes. "I was really puzzled by the fact that everything I translated seemed to talk as if this Ha'tak had been fleeing Earth with Sobek inside. Like some big escape following a battle."

"Yeah. Because we know that if Sobek _was_ on this ship when it crashed, he must have survived. Because he didn't die on the ship, he died when Bastet chopped his head off. Right?"

Daniel took a deep breath. "Well, that was the assumption I was working to as I tried to translate this. But nothing made sense. The record made clear reference to the fact that Sobek was on the downed ship, and that they were fleeing Earth for some reason at great pace. Which must have been when the ship crashed. Near the end of the inscriptions, there is some mention of Sobek being placed into a sarcophagus. Apparently his First Prime thought that the vessel could sustain him through the crash and after, but they moved it from the record room and put it somewhere else."

"Why would they bother doing that?"

"That's what puzzled me. Until the account made mention of the Jaffa linking directly into the Ha'tak's power systems."

Sam stared at him. "_What_?"

" 'The damage to our Lord Sobek is great,'" said Daniel, reading straight from his notes, " 'for time had not passed enough for the one who returns sight to the dead to regain all his powers. His new host is still weak. I believe that he can survive, even if we cannot effect rescue for many moons. The sarcophagus will sustain him, with increased power from the ship itself. Lord Sobek will survive.' " Daniel stopped, looking at her with deeply lined eyes. "Sam, I don't think that ship was as deserted as we first thought."

"Oh my god." Sam rubbed a hand over her face. "And they weren't rescued, were they?"

"That's where the record stops. But no, I don't think they were. I think the bodies we found were the entire crew. If they were running, then they'd want as few knowing about it as possible."

"So this flight from Earth was _after_ Sobek was supposedly killed?"

Daniel nodded. "Right. Except that he wasn't, somehow. He took a new host and escaped, and the head that Bastet is so proud of is that of his old host. And the plan worked so well that no one – not even hundreds of years later – knew about it."

"Oh my god," Sam repeated, shell-shocked. She shook her head, forcing herself to think about how this information helped her current predicament. "So in order to boost the natural life of the sarcophagus, they wired it into the ship's power source?"

"That's my interpretation of that passage I just read to you. I think that Sobek effected a very daring escape from Earth in a new body, but didn't have time to recuperate before the ship crashed. To save him, his Jaffa put him in stasis. Knowing that they had no allies to call upon and that they could be stuck there for a long time, they made sure the sarcophagus had enough power to keep him alive. Unfortunately, I can't tell you to where they moved the sarcophagus."

"I know, Daniel. Grisk found it." She rubbed her eyes again, feeling the fear building behind them. "That's what the Colonel had just found out when the console I was working on blew. He'd gone to radio Grisk, to tell him that if he came across it, he shouldn't touch it, just in case. Grisk said he'd already found it. It was empty, he said, just full of dust."

"Full of dust? Well, maybe that's a good sign. Maybe the sarcophagus malfunctioned despite their best efforts and Sobek died inside it."

"That doesn't sound right, Daniel. None of the other bodies had rotted completely, even with the annual thaw. And if the sarcophagus had been working, Sobek's corpse would have been in a better state of preservation than the others. Anyway, if that was the case, the sarcophagus wouldn't have been open at all. And we've seen examples of a symbiote surviving in stasis for centuries."

"Osiris. Yes. But that was the parasite itself, not…the host." Daniel looked at her. "Sam, if Grisk found the sarcophagus, he could have found Sobek too."

"But – I didn't sense anything from Grisk. Nothing to indicate a Goa'uld presence."

Daniel shrugged. "I don't understand it either, Sam. Maybe the symbiote was still weak from so long in stasis. It doesn't sound as if Sobek had much time to secure control of his new host before he had to go into the sarcophagus. But leaving aside the Goa'uld angle, what about the Jaffa tampering with the Ha'tak's systems? Could that be what you were looking for?"

"Could be, Daniel. You'd better go wake Hammond and tell him what you've told me. If Komek has got a Goa'uld loose, they're in more trouble that we thought. I'm going to go back over these blueprints."

Daniel clasped her tired shoulder in a gesture of support as he went, but Carter didn't even look up.

* * *

Jack sat leaning against the only solid wall of their cell, staring up at the ceiling. He'd already been through one interrogation with Grisk and his guards, and they'd taken Teal'c with them after bringing him back. The helpless feeling that had knawed into his gut and wrapped itself around his spine wasn't a sensation O'Neill relished. Not knowing what Grisk was doing to Teal'c was worrying. The gold emblem that still adorned the ex-Jaffa's head was bound to cause trouble when the snake decided to show itself, and Jack wondered what this Goa'uld would do when it realised that Teal'c no longer possessed his Primta. Strikes me that Teal'c could use this to his advantage, since Sobek knows nothing about the fate of Apophis. Perhaps he cold pretend to be friendly to Sobek?

Sighing again, he got up, wincing at the loud protest from his knees. Slowly, Jack walked the edges of their cell, checking for weak points, although he was sure they would be very few. Getting out of Barask in one piece would be like getting out of Alcatraz. Though of course, SG-1 wasn't averse to a bit of tough jail-breaking when the need arose.

But that was before… O'Neill tried not to think about Daniel and Carter. He knew that if – _when _– he and Teal'c got back to Earth, the weight of their absence would be enough to crush the air from his lungs once and for all. God only knew what he was going to tell Jacob Carter, if they ever met again.

Pinching his thumb and forefinger across the bridge of his nose, O'Neill forced himself to focus. No point crying for the dead, he told himself harshly. It wasn't as if they could hear you, after all. Grief was a show for others, not for the ones lost, and self-recrimination did nothing. He knew as much from the death of his son.

"What have they done with your friend?"

The voice came from the cell holding the protestors. O'Neill looked up to see Toram leaning against the bars, watching him.

"Some sort of interrogation."

Toram grimaced with a nod. "I hear that Grisk is in a particularly vengeful mood today. I am sorry."

"So old Grisk is more pissed than usual, huh? Wonder what's brought that on?"

"I'm sure I will have a chance to observe his rage later myself," Toram replied dryly. "I'll let you know my assessment – if I survive to tell the tale."

The colonel regarded Toram, gaze glancing from the protestor's roughly cut dark hair to his warm but shabby clothing. "Have you been in Barask before?"

"Yes, twice before. We make this trip annually. We always end up in here, though usually only briefly before being sent for prosecution in the South." The young man shrugged, glancing down at his feet. "Our numbers dwindle year by year. It's a hard journey to make, and it's difficult for many to stay focused on the goal when our efforts seem to have such little effect."

"How do you keep going, yourself? Can't be easy."

"It's not. But I have to keep going. We have to make the government see what they are doing to Komek. I can't just stand by and watch them destroy the planet."

"But you'll be long gone when the ice caps actually melt," O'Neill pointed out, letting his eyes slide away from Toram's for fear of letting some secret slip. If the worst came to the worst – and Jack was beginning to think that it really was – then there was no point panicking anyone else.

"But what about my children, or my children's children? No, it's my problem as much as it will be theirs. We can make a difference now, and if that's the case then we have to do what we can."

O'Neill's nod of understanding was overshadowed by the sound of the cell doors opening. Teal'c was forced down the stairs, clearly in extremepain. Mikas was once again on guard detail, but O'Neill was surprised to also see Grisk descend the stairs. As the group neared, Mikas warned O'Neill to stay back from the door as they opened it.

The colonel concentrated on Grisk, watching the commander carefully. When those eyes finally turned on him, what O'Neill took to be the hiding Goa'uld sent a malevolent look his way.

"So how's things, Grisk?" O'Neill forced himself to say, as the door clanged shut again behind Teal'c. The Chulakian instantly slid to the floor. O'Neill forced himself not to move to help his friend, watching Grisk carefully for some sign of reaction. There was none.

"Teal'c is an interesting man to talk to Colonel. Very interesting indeed." The commander turned to the two guards behind him, jutting his cruel chin toward the other occupied cell. "I want to talk to these two alone. Get those lice-ridden protestors out of here and into interrogation cells. They've been up here, wandering around on the ice. I want to know if they've seen what these scouts for Earth's army have been doing."

"Commander, surely you will need –"

"I need no help in defending myself from these prisoners, Mikas. How dare you presume to tell me what I need. Get out, get those prisoners out, and leave me."

O'Neill watched Grisk carefully. He'd seen the brief look of surprise in Mikas' eyes at the commander's order. The Goa'uld inside Grisk was clearly making the surly leader act somewhat out of character. The colonel wondered what would come next, and glanced at Teal'c. The big warrior was still recovering from his 'interrogation', eyes shut as he drew steady breaths.

At some length, not least because the protestors were not inclined to leave quietly, Grisk was left alone with O'Neill and Teal'c.

"So are you going to introduce yourself, or what?"

"It would appear that you already know who I am, Tau'ri."

"Knowing what you are is bad enough." nice

The Goa'uld turned away, seemingly amused. When it spoke next, it was with the harsh and recognisable tones of a symbiote. "How things have changes since I left Earth. A defiant slave. Who would have thought it?"

"Oh, there are a lot more surprises waiting for you, believe me." O'Neill paused. "Is Grisk in there?"

The creature turned again, and this time its eyes were glowing with the familiar light of possession. The Goa'uld grinned again, wandering closer to Jack as it looked him up and down.

"No, the host is now completely mine. It took a while, I admit. His will was strong and I – was not what I once was. But now…now I am ready to really _live_ again."

"You going to tell us which snake you are? Because I'm sure you're just expecting me to know off the top of my head, but I'm afraid I don't have a clue." O'Neill shrugged. "To tell you the truth – and please don't take this personally – you all look the same to me."

The Goa'uld sent a cold glare toward O'Neill for a few moments, before Grisk's face creased in amusement once more. Jack was a little disconcerted by this Goa'uld's seeming self assurance. Here it was on a planet that knew nothing of it's existence, without Jaffa, without anything to mark it out as Goa'uld, and without passage anywhere else, and it seemed utterly unperturbed.

"I like you, Tau'ri, despite your insolence. You will be a valuable addition to my new army of Jaffa, where you will learn the joys of serving your god. This defiance is – so draining."

Despite himself, the colonel backed away a step. Just the memory of his treatment at the hands of Hathor was enough to send shivers down his spine.

"Oh no. Thanks, but I've been there, done that. To tell you the truth, it was overrated. Don't think I'll bother again."

"You have been a Jaffa? Interesting. All other humans on this forsaken planet seem ignorant of their gods, but you have had the privelige of carrying one."

"Actually, it was a Tok'Ra. Sorry to dissapoint."

The Goa'uld's eyes narrowed again. "Well, well well. Tok'Ra. Things on Earth really have changed since I was last there. And what of Ra? Did my betrayers trick him as well, or did he simply move on to another planet?"

"Ra is dead." Teal'c's voice echoed from across the room as he stood.

"Ah. Dead? Really? Well, there is an unexpected development." The Goa'uld moved toward Teal'c, who forced himself upright despite his evident pain. "So who rules Earth now? Your master, perhaps?" Glancing at Teal'c's emblem, gleaming on his forehead "The Lord Apophis?"

"Apophis too is dead."

"What?" The Goa'uld took a step back, clearly shocked at this news.

"Oh yeah," added O'Neill. "There's been quite a spring clean of system lords."

"So it would seem." The Goa'uld smiled again, and turned once more to Teal'c. "Who then, do you serve?"

"I have no master."

"Really? How excellent. I shall be in need of a new First Prime. You will be a perfect candidate. And the fact that you bear Apophis' mark will show the system lords that I am not to be trifled with. The Crocodile God will reign once more."

Jack's eyebrows rose and he glanced at Teal'c. "Excuse me? Crocodile God? If you don't mind me saying, that's extending the snake metaphor just a little too far, don't you think?"

"Your irreverence is beginning to wear thin, Tau'ri. It is clear that you need to learn the importance of respect. In time, you will kneel willingly before your god Sobek."

Despite himself, O'Neill paused, taken aback. "Uh – we have it on good authority that Sobek is dead."

"Ah, yes, well," Sobek smiled again, an unpleasant showing of his teeth. "Gods work in mysterious ways. And, Death is such a flexible state. I've found these bodies to be really quite resilient."

The colonel looked at Teal'c, though his words addressed the Goa'uld. "Sobek was killed by Bastet and Kali. Your head is in Bastet's palace."

"A marvellous trophy for her, no doubt." Sobek turned away. His entire stance had changed, and as he moved it was clear that whatever was remaining of Grisk's mind was receding further and further behind the personality of this Goa'uld.

"Then how can you be Sobek?"

"They imagined that they could conspire against me," laughed the Goa'uld. "Me, the great Crocodile himself. As if I would not have watched their every move since the day we began to consider joining forces! As if I had not planted my spies on their ships, in their palaces themselves! Fools, all of them."

"Yeah, well. I hate to point out the obvious, but you're the one that's been stuck in a frozen coffin for centuries." O'Neill shrugged. "In the winning stakes, I'd say that's a pretty lame first prize."

Sobel turned, eyes flashing in anger as he brought his hand up, cracking it along the Colonel's jaw. The blow was fast and hard enough to make Jack's head ring and his eyes water.

"Silence! You will not address me in this manner! I am your god, and you will treat me as such! I will not allow such insolence!"

"You are no God," said Teal'c, tightly controlled voice holding in his anger. "You are a parasite, living in another's body, useless without the Tau'ri you have infested. If you have escaped Bastet's sword, it is by fleeing, and you have only survived because they thought you were already dead. You are nothing, you have no power. You may as well be locked beneath the ice still, for you are of no more consequence than the snow falling outside."

Sobek roared in fury. "Insolence! Such insolence! You are not fit to be First Prime. You are not fit even to be called Jaffa!"

"Well that's okay then," said O'Neill, "because he's not a Jaffa either. Yeah, that's right," Jack smiled briefly at Sobek's quick, shocked glance, "we got that little snake out of him. No more symbiote."

Sobek's wide and angry eyes roamed to Teal'c's stomach. The warrior glanced at O'Neill.

"Show him. T."

Teal'c lifted the shirt of his BDUs, exposing his flat, muscled stomach and parting the flaps of expose his now-empty stomach pouch to Sobek's stunned eyes.

"What trickery is this?"

"No tricks, Sobek. Teal'c's not Jaffa anymore."

"But you cannot survive without the symbiote! We give you life when we give you an infant!"

"You give the Jaffa a life of slavery, which is no life at all." Teal'c stared steadily at Sobek. "But as you say, thing have changed. Things are changing. The days of the Goa'uld are numbered."

Sobek roared in anger again. Turning, he moved toward the doors of the cell, shouting for the guards to let him out. Hearing the bolts being thrown back, he turned, eyes flashing in uncontrolled anger.

"My days are not numbered. My days are only just beginning. Sobek will reign again, and all those standing against me will pay the price. Bastet will pay for her treachery, and Kali will pay for her complicity. And you – _you_," Sobek hissed, pointing at Teal'c, "you will learn the price of your defiance. If you no longer value the gift of a symbiote, then you will learn the pain of being forced to live without one."

As Mikas and a second guard entered the cell complex, Sobek's eyes ceased to glow. The parasite's voice altered too, dwindling into the commander's normal tones as he gave tight, angry instructions to his soldiers. It was clear that Sobek was not ready to reveal himself to Grisk's own troops, and O'Neill realised that he had been wrong when he'd hoped that the hiding Goa'uld had no power. Sobek did have power, despite his lack of hand devices and Jaffa. All the while that he remained hidden in Grisk's body, the Goa'uld had an entire base of Komekian soldiers at his beck and call. God only knew what he would choose to do with them. Jack might hope here that the Komekian soliders would question any too outrageous orders.

The door slammed shut behind Sobek, leaving Teal'c and O'Neill completely alone in the cell block for the first time.

"So. That went well."

"That is not a correct assessment, O'Neill. We and the whole of Komek are in grave danger."

"Ok, I get it. No time for jokes." Jack watched as Teal'c slid back into a sitting position against the wall, breathing heavily. "How are you doing?"

"Not good, O'Neill. My stamina is very low."

"You're right, Teal'c. Things aren't looking good. What I don't get is – how come Sobek's alive? I can't believe that any self-respecting Goa'uld dominatrix like Bastet would be so proud over a little trinket like an enemy's head if she wasn't sure it was the right Goa'uld."

"It is a mystery indeed, O'Neill. It would seem that Sobek found out about the plot and escaped unharmed."

"Pretty pissed off though."

"Indeed."

"You know what I'm thinking?"

Teal'c inclined his head. "I suspect I do, O'Neill."

"If I were that snake, stranded in the middle of nowhere? I'd want weapons. Or a ship."

"Indeed."

"He's going to go back to the Ha'tak."

"I concur, O'Neill."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	11. Chapter 11

**Preservation **

**Chapter Eleven**

Daniel watched as Hammond leafed through his hastily-prepared report.

"Doctor Jackson, you're telling me that the Goa'uld got it wrong? That they assassinated the wrong… person?"

"Yes, General, either that or Bastet is lying about her trophy head. That is a possibility, of course – the Goa'uld would take any failure as a weakness on her part, so she wouldn't want to publicise that she had somehow let Sobek escape. But I think she genuinely believes that Sobek is dead, and the most likely explanation for that is that she assassinated what she thought was Sobek's host, when in fact he had changed hosts."

General Hammond leaned back in his chair, gripping the edge of his desk. "This is bad news if it's true, Doctor."

"Yes, General. Though of course, it's academic as to whether I'm right or not if we don't manage to get back to the ship with a solution in the next," Daniel paused, looking at the General's clock, "day. But I think I am right. As to whether Sobek is still alive and has taken a host, I have no way of knowing. Although it may explain Grisk's violent reaction to Jack's order to evacuate the ship."

"The Goa'uld couldn't survive a cataclysm like the one we're expecting on Komek?"

"No, General, not unless… he managed to repair the ship." Daniel glanced at Hammond again, the mere thought sending a shiver through his bones.

"I don't want to take that chance, Doctor." Hammond stood, squaring his shoulders and reaching for his red telephone. "I'd better call Washington and –"

There was a hurried knock at the door, interrupting the General's sentence. It opened to reveal Sam Carter with a roll of paper under her arm and more colour in her cheeks than Daniel had observed for some days.

Hammond waved her inside quickly. "Major Carter, come in. How is your progress?"

"Good, General. In fact, I'm 99 per cent sure that I've got it now. I can't tell properly until I've actually tested it in a practical environment, but I'm pretty sure that the break in power caused by the sarcophagus is what was causing all the problems." Carter unrolled the paper she carried to reveal a set of blueprints for the Ha'tak, scrawled over with Sam's usually impeccably neat handwriting. "I've calculated the sort of power surge that would have been needed to cause the damage that it did, and where it could have come from. By my estimate, the sarcophagus was probably placed here,' she indicated, tapping the paper with her finger. "If the sarcophagus is there, then I'm right. And all I need to do is fix the break and reroute the power around it."

"That simple?" Daniel asked. "Really

"Famous last words, son." Hammond cautioned. Looking at Sam, he asked, "You really think this is the answer, Major?"

"Yes sir. It's the only explanation. Nothing else makes sense."

Hammond nodded thoughtfully, staring at the blueprints. "You know that the Komekian's have got a defence force to rival our own here at the SGC stationed at their Stargate?"

Carter winced. "Yes sir."

"It's not going to be an easy operation if they don't want us there."

"No sir. But General – what about Komek? We can't stand by and watch the planet die when we know we can do something to stop it."

"I understand your sentiments, Major, and I agree with you. However, this isn't my decision. I can't commit the size of attack force it would take to get through there without higher authorisation. And I'm not sure that I'm going to get the nod here."

"Not even with Jack and Teal'c stranded out there?" Daniel asked.

"Not even then, son." Hammond smiled wryly. "I'm hoping the fact that the NID are itching to get their hands on a whole Ha'tak is going to swing it in our favour."

"What a surprise."

"Major Carter, I suggest that you prepare for combat. If we get the green light, this is going to be an extremely tough operation."

"Yes, General."

Hammond, nodding his head once in goodbye, turned toward his office. Daniel followed Sam from the room. She glanced up at him as they headed for the supply office.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"As if I'd even think about staying behind?"

"This isn't going to be a walk in the park, Daniel. People are going to die."

"I know that, Sam. And I can help. And don't tell me that you trust me less than some gung-ho soldier you've never been in combat with before."

Carter looked at him, eventually nodding in resignation. "I don't want to lose you too, Daniel," she said quietly. "If we can't get the Colonel and Teal'c back –"

"Have a little faith, Sam. I can handle this."

After a moment, Sam nodded again. "Okay. Let's get kitted up. I want to go over the blueprints again, see if I've missed anything."

Daniel reached out a hand and caught her elbow before Sam could move away. "I'm not going to die Sam, and neither are you."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Daniel," Sam said, looking at him seriously. "This is about as tough as it gets. Believe me."

"Jack would tell you to stop being defeatist."

"Colonel O'Neill would tell me that I've got to fix the mess I've made."

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, that too. And that's what we're going to do."

* * *

Teal'c had been taken again, leaving Jack alone in their cell. Glancing toward the inhabitants of the other cell, he watched Toram tend to one of his own injured party. The protestors had been bundled back into the prison soon after Teal'c's removal. It seemed that Grisk had let his guards loose on them, encouraging the soldiers to teach the protestors a lesson in what happened to those who would interfere where they were not wanted. Toram had spoken to him and seemed shaken, something Jack had not observed in the strong young man before now. The Goa'uld was allowing his true nature to peek through Grisk's exterior. Even the guards were noticing it – those who had consciences, that is. Toram had mentioned that during the beatings they had received from some of their captors, some had not participated in the brutality. Either they were sympathetic to the protestors' cause, or – as Jack thought more likely – they did not feel that random violence against civilians was part of their remit.

Leaning against the cell bars, O'Neill tried to find some way of using this information to his advantage. He had questioned Toram about which guards had participated and which hadn't, but the protestor was in no fit state to think clearly about their ordeal. Toram was far more worried about the state of his companions, for whom he clearly felt responsible. The colonel knew the feeling. Right now Teal'c was being brutalised, probably in ways even the hard-bitten officer would struggle to imagine, and Jack couldn't help but feel that if they had fought for their freedom instead of surrendering, SG-1 as a whole would be home free by now. As it was, he was looking at being the only member left alive, and even that wasn't going to last long. He had no idea how long Komek had left before the apocalypse hit. He didn't even know whether it was night or day outside.

The exit door to the cells creaked open, sending a thin shaft of electric light cascading through the gap and down the stairs. Jack stood straighter as he saw a silhouette that could only be Teal'c stumble into the gap. He was bent double, forced forward by only one guard. Jack's bile rose in his throat as Teal'c's bloody face came into view. He was paler than O'Neill had ever seen him, lips ashen against his dark skin.

The protestors began to shout in anger as the two figures descended the stairs, and Jack saw that the guard was Mikas. His eyes remained averted from both the protestors' and O'Neill's own glare, shuffling the injured Teal'c forward with what seemed to Jack to be almost shame. Opening the door of their cell, Mikas pushed Teal'c through, and Jack had to support the big man to stop him crumpling completely.

"God, T, what have they done to you?" Jack helped his friend toward the wall, levering him down into a sitting position. Teal'c kept his eyes shut, and his breathing was fast and shallow. The colonel noticed that the warrior had what looked like angry burn marks littering his arms, and two of his fingers looked to be broken.

"I brought you some water." Mikas voice quavered across the cell. "You should wash his wounds."

Jack turned on the guard, incandescent with fury. "_Wash his wounds_? Wash his wounds, Mikas? You son of a bitch!" He saw the soldier wince, but did not reign in his reaction. "Look at him. You think giving us a lousy bottle of water is going to make up for what you've done?"

"I didn't – it was Grisk. He's – " The soldier stopped, glancing up into the corners of the room, presumably looking for cameras. Refusing to meet the colonel's eyes again, Mikas turned, hurrying for the exit.

"Wait!" Jack moved hurriedly back to the cell bars, sensing a change of heart in the guard and desperate not to let the young man leave. "Mikas, wait. What's going on? What's Grisk doing? He's different, isn't he? He's not the commander you know."

"He's doing what he has to in order to protect our world." Mikas didn't turn, but he did stop, foot poised on the bottom step.

"Oh really?" O'Neill waved toward Toram and his men, "so beating up protestors worried about your environment is protecting Komek?" Jack saw Mikas flinch and pushed. "Come on Mikas. I _know_. He's changed, hasn't he? He's more violent, he's more angry."

Mikas turned, slowly, though he still didn't look at O'Neill directly. "He's just – he was always a good commander. But now –" Mikas looked up at the protestors, still tending their wounded men. "Now he's cruel. But I am sure his intentions are sound. He is saving Komek."

"No, Mikas, he's not saving Komek. Believe me; he's not in the least bit interested in saving Komek. Not any more."

"But we have word that your world is about to attack."

"It's a lie, Mikas. My world doesn't even know we're missing. He's deceiving you, to get you to do what he wants."

"You are mistaken. Your ploys will not work with us, Colonel O'Neill. We know there is an attack coming. Word of this came from the Southern Continents, from the governing body itself. Earth has made contact again, trying to negotiate a return. They still want the ship, and for you and your friend to go home. But you are to be held for trial later in the year, if you survive that long."

O'Neill gripped the bars of the cell again as he contemplated the meaning of Mikas' words. Something didn't add up.

"But how would Earth know what's going on here? How would they know that they need to negotiate? Major Carter and Daniel Jackson didn't make it back to the SGC. Grisk told us that himself." Jack's mind had gone blank with a desperate possibility he tried not to let himself contemplate. "They were intercepted at the 'gate, and killed. Grisk told us on the way back here."

Mikas glanced at him in guarded surprise. "That's not right. They are not dead – the patrol _did_ intercept them, but they did not stop them from returning home. They have been contacting the Southern Continents ever since."

Jack's heart soared. If the rest of SG-1 were alive, there was still hope. If Carter had made it back to her lab, then she must have got started on the fix for the problem in the Ha'tak.

"Mikas," O'Neill started with renewed urgency, realising that Komek may have a chance after all. "You've got to listen to me."

"No, I cannot. I have already told you too much. If Grisk told you your friends were dead he must have had a reason for doing so. And we must prepare for defence against your world's attack."

"No, Mikas, please listen. We don't want to attack –"

"You will not be able to," Mikas said, shortly. We have a great many soldiers stationed at the old stone circle, and once our engineers repair the Ha'tak, then we will be able to use that against your forces too."

"Wait! Mikas! Tell me about the ship! You don't understand, Grisk really isn't what you think he is – you can't let him near the ship."

"You are too late, Colonel. The commander is preparing to leave now with a team of our best engineers. I am to accompany him, and I swear on my mother's life that I will not allow your troops to take control of Komek. We will be victorious."

"Victory? A victory is the last thing you are going to get!" Jack struck the cell bars with his fists as Mikas continued to move away. "God damn it, Mikas, use your eyes! Grisk isn't one of you anymore! He's infested with a parasite that doesn't care that starting up that ship will destroy your planet. Come on, Mikas! How can firing up something that big inside a mountain of ice be a good idea? It's going to melt the Plate. You've got to believe me, Mikas. Carter will have a way of stopping it, but she needs time to get here. You've got to stop Grisk speeding up the process!" The young soldier, clearly too overwhelmed by O'Neill's desperate outburst to listen, began to run up the stairs. "God damn it, Mikas! This planet is going to die if you don't listen to me!"

The prison door slammed shut on his last words, and O'Neill heard the heavy bolts sliding back into place. He sagged against the bars, his recent euphoria at the fact that Carter and Daniel were alive and well dissipating beneath a tidal wave of despair.

Picking up the small bottle of water that Mikas had left, he turned and moved toward Teal'c. He hadn't moved at all since he was returned to the cell, not even to open his eyes. Crouching beside his friend, Jack broke open the seal on the water, taking a mouthful himself. At least it was clean and sweet, which was more than could be said for their previous provisions. Reaching down, Jack tore off a pocket of his BDU's. Tipping the bottle up, he soaked the fabric with water before wiping it across the big man's forehead. Teal'c jerked slightly, opening eyes that had trouble focusing.

"Easy, Teal'c. You're back with me."

"O'Neill."

"Don't try and talk, T. I need to clean you up a bit. They really did you over, buddy."

Teal'c nodded, lacking the strength to discuss the matter further. He allowed his eyes to close, head lolling heavily against the wall as Jack bathed his face. There were cuts and bruises all over Teal'c's face, but that wasn't Jack's main worry. He was burning up, and seemed to be developing a fever. Infection was taking hold in his leg wound, and the effects had been only amplified by Sobek's harsh treatment. Jack wondered what the Goa'uld had tried to get Teal'c to do. Become a Jaffa once more? How could he do that without a larval symbiote? Or had he been only interested in punishment? Whatever the snake's intentions, he had clearly gone to town on his subject.

"I have some good news," O'Neill said, as cheerfully as he could manage as he uncovered more wounds on Teal'c's broad chest. "Daniel and Carter are alive." Teal'c opened one eye at this announcement, looking askance at O'Neill. "I know, I know. But it looks like Grisk lied. Hammond's been trying to get through to the government down South."

"Has he succeeded?" Teal'c asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Uh – well, no, it doesn't look like it."

"Then Komek is still on the verge of annihilation, and us with it," Teal'c muttered.

O'Neill paused, ripping off another pocket and soaking it with fresh water. "Well yeah. But I was trying to look on the bright side."

A faint smile touched Teal'c's lips before his eyes closed once more. "I agree, O'Neill. The news that Daniel Jackson and Samantha Carter are still live is – encouraging."

Jack nodded again, to himself this time. "There is a down side."

"This does not cause me surprise, O'Neill."

"Grisk – Sobek – has got the men convinced that they can use the Ha'tak against Earth. He's taking a team of engineers down there to fix it. Even if Carter's got a patch, by the time they get through the forces that Sobek has got waiting for them at the 'gate, it's going to be too late."

Teal'c was silent for a few minutes, struggling to catch his breath. Eventually he opened his eyes, speaking in a voice still little above a whisper. "Then we must do what we can to slow him down."

O'Neill looked down at his friend, and had never seen him as frail as that moment. Teal'c, bloodied and bruised, had finally met his match. How would he even make it out of their cell alive, let alone across the freezing rigours of the Plate and into the Ha'tak to defeat Sobek?

"Yeah, I'm – working on it, Teal'c. Just not sure how we're going to get out of this place yet." He sighed. "Tell you what, buddy, why don't you get some rest? I'll wake you when I've thought of something."

Teal'c didn't answer, but O'Neill thought he saw the big man nod slightly. The colonel moved away as he heard the warrior's breathing level out, still shallow but slower. Standing, Jack rubbed a hand through his hair and across his dirt-smeared face. Carter and Daniel may be alive, but they were in no less danger. If Sobek got to the ship before Carter, they were all finished anyway.

* * *

Less than 30 minutes later, Daniel arrived in the gate room to find the troops assembled. He moved towards Sam, who was checking her P-90 with a care that he recognised as disguising her anxiety.

"All set?"

She nodded with a brief sigh. "Let's hope I at least make it to the Ha'tak," Sam muttered, rubbing a hand through her hair and looking at the map again. "The plan is for the Marines to go through the 'gate first, to try and keep the forces stationed there occupied while the other SG teams follow through behind. You and I are to join SG-10 to get us through the 'gate. Once we're through, it's our objective to break free of the fighting troops and outflank the enemy. Then, when we're clear, we have to make a run for the Ha'tak, just the two of us. The hope is that the Komekian forces at the 'gate either won't notice us or will be too busy to send anyone after us."

"Right. So no back up for us, huh?"

Sam shook her head. "Not until things settle down at the 'gate. When the enemy is subdued there, Hammond will send troops our way, to the Ha'tak. Until then, we're on our own."

"What about Jack and Teal'c?"

"Same applies. They are apparently still in Barask, and so are reasonably safe. They'll have to stay there until our troops can liberate them."

"I'm sure Jack will be happy with that," Daniel said, not without sarcasm.

"Well," Sam smiled slightly at Daniel's words, "to tell you the truth, I'd rather get the Colonel and Teal'c first. God knows what we're going to find back at the Ha'tak. But there's no time. We're cutting it pretty fine as it is."

"So we're just going to open the 'gate and go pouring through?" The archaeologist glanced through the window of the briefing room at the waiting Stargate below. Troops were beginning to fill the small space in front of the 'gate, BDU's marking them out as Marines.

"No, we're going to open the 'gate and send a probe through first. We're hoping that we'll at least get a few pictures to tell us how many troops they've got there before they blow it to pieces. Then we'll attack. Hammond figures that their attention will be on the MALP, at least for a few seconds. And let's face it, we need all the help we can get."

Daniel looked at his watch. "Ten minutes to go. I think I'm going to go and get another gun."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	12. Chapter 12

**Preservation **

**Chapter Twelve**

Colonel O'Neill sat beside Teal'c, who was now stretched out unconscious on the floor of the cell. Jack leaned against the frigid wall, knees pulled up to his chest and arms crossed atop them. No matter how he turned the problem over in his mind, O'Neill couldn't work it out. Teal'c was in no fit state to go anywhere, let alone to try and make it across the Plate to the Ha'tak. But hours had passed now since Grisk's last visit, he surmised that the Goa'uld-infested commander had done exactly what Mikas had said he would, and had left Barask for the submerged ship.

Jack heard murmuring from across the cell, and glanced at Toram and the other protestors. He guessed that the young man was having a few problems placating his comrades, who didn't like being locked up in a freezing cell for their trouble. Maybe they blamed Toram and his strategies. Whatever it was, they had been having heated if subdued discussions ever since Mikas left.

"O'Neill." Teal'c's voice was unexpected in the darkness, and Jack glanced down at his friend.

"Teal'c? How are you feeling?"

"My fever has lessened. How long have I been unconscious?"

"A good few hours. I didn't see the sense in waking you up."

"Then you have not come up with a solution to our predicament?" With difficulty, Teal'c dragged himself into a sitting position.

"I think we're going to have to face the fact that there's no way out of here, Teal'c."

"You fear that I will slow you down."

O'Neill met his friend's eyes, and made the decision not to lie. "To be honest Teal'c, yeah, that's part of it. There's no way you're fit to even try walking out of here, let alone anything else. But even if it were just me here, T, let's think about it. How would I even start getting out of here unarmed? And once I'm out, supposing I got through the corridors of Barask and into the outside world, how am I going to find my way to the Ha'tak? And once I'm there, what…" Jack tailed off, looking at the floor with a shrug. "You get the picture. I think all we can do is hope that Carter gets through in time."

"She will not."

"Teal'c, you're not helping."

"I am merely stating the truth, O'Neill."

"Yeah, well. The truth isn't the best thing to hear sometimes. _These_ times."

Teal'c paused before answering. "Yes. I have noticed this trait in the Tau'ri often. I have always thought that honesty pays better dividends than falsehood."

Despite himself, O'Neill smiled. "Maybe you're right, buddy. Maybe you're right."

"Colonel O'Neill?"

The two members of SG-1 looked up to see Toram and his fellow protestors standing close to the edge of their cell, looking at them. O'Neill looked at Teal'c before standing and walking as far as he could toward them, nodding to Toram and his companions in turn.

"Toram. Everything okay?"

"No," Toram said bluntly, "but we must make the best of it. We have been discussing the situation in which we all find ourselves."

"Yeah. I've been in better."

"Indeed." Toram glanced at his friends. "Colonel, we wanted to enquire about something we overheard, the last time one of Grisk's soldiers returned your friend."

"What about it?"

"You were shouting, Colonel, about the fact that Komek was in imminent danger."

O'Neill winced. "Oh. That."

"You were trying to warn the soldier that one of the ice caps was going to melt."

"Yeah. Look, Toram –"

"Is this in fact true?"

"Toram –"

"O'Neill." Jack turned at the sound of shuffling behind him, finding Teal'c standing with difficulty at his shoulder. "I believe now would be a good time to tell the _whole _truth."

The colonel frowned, thinking carefully before he turned back to Toram. It went against his instincts to tell the protestor and his friends the catastrophic danger they were all facing. He was finding it hard enough, contemplating his last hours and the helplessness with which he faced them, without condemning others to the same fate. But maybe they had a right to know, if this was the last truth they would ever hear.

"Yes," O'Neill said eventually with a sigh. "It's true, Toram. I'm sorry. In a few hours – don't ask me how many exactly, because I can't keep track without my watch – but in a few hours, all hell is going to break loose on Komek. One of those big old mountains of ice out there is going to melt, and will probably take the rest of the Plate with it. And after that, the rest of Komek. I'm sorry."

Toram nodded slowly, absorbing this information. He was silent for several moments, before one of his party nudged him again. The young man looked up at O'Neill once more.

"But you were also shouting, Colonel, about a solution. Something called Carter and a way of stopping it."

O'Neill rubbed a grubby hand over his grubbier face. "Carter's a person. She's one of my team. When we were captured, I sent her back to where we came from, in the hope that she would be able to find a solution in time to stop all this."

"And she has done so?"

"Well, Mikas was going on about some attack they were preparing for – the government in the Southern Continents had refused to negotiate with our people, who wanted to come back to Komek. I'm thinking that if they are trying to come back, then Carter's worked it out."

"Then Komek is no longer in danger?"

"It's not as easy as that, Toram. No one will listen to us. Grisk – has gone mad. It's too complicated to explain right now, but he knows what we're saying is true and he wants to speed up the melting of the ice cap. He's on his way to do that right now, and if he manages it, then Carter will be out of time long before she makes it back there."

Toram nodded again.

"Is there nothing you yourself can do to help?"

"From in here? What do you think?"

"But if you were out of here? What would you do?"

"We would attempt to stop Grisk from completing his plan," said Teal'c. "But such speculation is irrelevant, since we are both trapped here with no foreseeable way out."

"But if you were out," Toram insisted, "you would not simply abandon Komek for safety?"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Toram, what is this? Twenty questions?" O'Neill, exasperated, turned away.

"We would not abandon this world, Toram," Teal'c replied calmly. "We would do everything in our power to stop Grisk and the destruction of Komek."

"You got everything you want now?" O'Neill asked, turning back to face the protestors in annoyance. "You feeling good? We're stuck in here, and there's nothing we can do about it but watch the hours ticking by. Actually, I can't even do that. So we're just going to sit here doing nothing until Armageddon comes, because we're helpless to do anything else. That's about the size of it, Toram."

"We will help you escape."

"What?"

"We have been discussing – possibilities. We wanted to talk about it amongst ourselves before alerting you to them. But now we are agreed. We will help you escape Barask."

O'Neill and Teal'c exchanged looks as the colonel moved back to the bars. "Look, I appreciate the sentiment, but I think it's a bit misplaced, don't you?"

"You are military men. You are used to finding your way out of difficult situations."

"Yes, _difficult_ situations. Not impossible ones."

"You are not willing to try? Even though it could save our planet?"

"What exactly did you have in mind? Because as far as I can see," Jack kicked the bars in front of him, "you and I are kind of in the same boat."

"We can do little, it is true. But we can give you a chance. We can create a distraction, give you time to break out. Wouldn't that help?"

"We're locked in different cells. How would you creating a distraction help?"

"We will wait until you are being handed your meals." Toram shrugged. "It will give you only a few moments, but with men like you that should be enough. Shouldn't it?"

"Usually, perhaps. Look, don't think we're not grateful for the idea – we are. But the fact is…"

"O'Neill. May I speak with you privately?" Teal'c nodded toward the protestors before pulling Jack away.

Jack lowered his voice. "We'd never make it T, and you know it."

"I know that you would make it alone, O'Neill."

"That's not gonna—"

"There is more at stake here than my life."

"I don't leave people behind, Teal'c."

"I do not intend to be left behind, O'Neill. But if I am to die, I choose to die free."

O'Neill frowned, staring at his boots, trying to find another way out of their situation. He didn't want to put Teal'c through it, but he knew the Jaffa wouldn't agree to anything less. And whatever way he looked at it, there really wasn't an alternative. He looked back up at Teal'c, who nodded, reading O'Neill's answer in his eyes. Jack sighed, turning back toward Toram.

"Okay. We're game if you are. But you understand that there may be consequences, don't you?"

Toram laughed without humour. "Consequences, Colonel O'Neill, are what we live our lives by."

"It's the living part I'm a little worried about right now."

"We can look after ourselves, O'Neill."

"Well, I guess I'll have to take your word for that. As much as I hate involving civilians in this, as Teal'c points out, we don't have much of a choice."

"We are agreed, then?"

Jack hesitated. He didn't want to deceive these people into believing the impossible, or that he could offer something that he may not be able to deliver.

"Look. Toram. You should know – we will try our best. But this is going to be hard. We may not succeed."

"We are aware of that."

"Okay then. Just so long as we're clear on this. Because even if we get out of here alive –"

"We have vehicles."

O'Neill stopped. "What?"

"To get across the Plate in pursuit of Grisk. You will never manage the trip on foot, particularly with the injuries your friend carries. We have concealed the vehicles we used to get here. We will tell you where they are."

Despite himself, Jack felt a surge of hope radiate through him. Vehicles meant more speed, less pressure on Teal'c's injuries. It meant a chance that they didn't have before, and as such the colonel was willing to grab at it with both hands. He gripped the bars between them and leant toward the protestors.

"Toram. If we actually get out of this in one piece, I'm going to buy you an ice cream."

* * *

An air of tense expectancy hung over the gateroom, which remained silent except for the occasional shuffled foot or quiet cough from the troops that would act as the first wave of the SGC's assault. Once they were through and fighting, Sam and Daniel would move out with other the troops on snowcrawlers, and break away as soon as they could.

Carter's stomach churned, though she kept her expression as stony as she knew how. God only knew what was waiting for them on the other side of the 'gate, and between the 'gate and the Ha'tak. Beside her was her snow crawler. The pack that rested on the floor beside her, ready to be picked up and slung across her back as soon as the order came to depart was full of everything she might need should she actually manage to make it to their goal, but at the moment her mind couldn't get past anything but the immediate task that lay ahead.

Beside her, Daniel stood, broodingly silent. He wore an armoured helmet, and for once carried no archaeological equipment. A tremor of unease pulsed through the Major's belly as she looked her friend over. Not that she had any anxiety over his abilities, but this was going to be ten times worse than any battle they'd faced before. This was going to be an all-out assault – the MALP had shown just how many troops were on the other side of the wormhole - and the enemy knew they were coming. Carter had the horrible feeling that the first few troops through the 'gate to Komek were going to get mown down before they even managed to re-orientate themselves after their journey through the 'gate. And Daniel wasn't military, Daniel was…

"Chevron Seven locked," Davis announced as the wormhole burst into the room, rushing through the stone circle before settling into the familiar electric-blue puddle.

"Major Starling, move out. This is it, Major Carter," echoed General Hammond's voice from the control room. "You have your orders."

"We're ready, General. We won't let you down."

"I'm sure you won't. Just make sure you come back alive, and I'll be happy."

Starling's Marines were already running into the blue light of the wormhole. Carter kicked her snowcrawler into action and turned to Daniel.

"Ready?" she shouted, over the clash of boots on metal and the roar of her crawler's engine.

Daniel nodded, tipping Sam a sloppy salute, which couldn't help but make her smile.

"Stay close, stay low, Daniel," she shouted. "No hesitations. If you two an opening, take it and don't look back."

The last thing Sam heard as she stepped through the 'gate was Hammond's voice, wishing them godspeed.

* * *

The door to the cell complex grated open, and Jack immediately forced himself to relax, moving toward Teal'c and sitting with his back to the wall. If this was it, he didn't want to give their captors any hint of what was about to happen. Gently, O'Neill nudged his companion in the ribs and murmured into Teal'c's ear.

"Eyes front, T. Looks like we might be on."

Teal'c opened his eyes as calmly as he had shut them, not moving another muscle from his meditative position. Two soldiers descended the stairs with trays, and O'Neill was oddly relieved to see that Mikas was not among them. Despite everything, he would not have relished having to injure the youngster. And sadly, if their plan was to work, then injury would most certainly ensue to someone. At this point Jack just hoped it wasn't him or Teal'c.

Glancing at the protestors, he noted that they had all drawn back into a loose line at the back of the cell. His stomach turned over at the thought of what they were about to do. Had he been in any other situation, the colonel would have refused the option point blank, on the grounds that the plan was ridiculously thin. But it was all they had and lo! There was that no-choice thing again.

To Jack's relief, the soldiers on food detail did not feed the protestors first. If they'd opened that cell and put the food inside, the troops would no doubt have wondered why their prisoners still remained standing as far away from their only meal of the day as possible. Any measure of suspicion would be enough to throw their plan out of the window. As it was, the first touch of luck Jack had encountered since arriving on Komek prevailed, and the two members of SG-1 were the first to be served. Together, Jack and Teal'c stood and moved casually toward the door.

"Stand back," one of the soldiers warned, moving his hand cautiously toward his gun.

Jack held up his hands in a placatory fashion. "Just hungry, that's all," he said.

"Well stay where you are."

The second the door was open, Toram and the rest of the protestors struck. Moving as one, they ran full-tilt toward their own cell wall, hitting it with enough force to rattle the bars. It wasn't much of a distraction, true, but it was enough to move the two soldier's attention for a second, and that was when Jack and Teal'c moved in, each lunging for one of the guards before they could pull the cell grate back behind them.

The two soldiers put up a fight, and Jack was sure that the commotion would bring more men down from the level above, but it didn't. Still locked in their cell, the protestors watched as first one guard and then the other was subdued and dragged unconscious into the cell. Pulling one of them toward the bars, O'Neill signalled for Teal'c to do the same.

"Strip them of their BDUs and tie them up, Teal'c. Just don't use their own uniforms – we'll take them. I'm going to see what useful stuff they've got on them."

Inclining his head, Teal'c made swift work of securing the two men, adding a gag for good measure as Jack went through each man's kit. It was basic gear, but the Colonel would take anything he could get right now. Making two piles of equal equipment, Jack counted what they had. A knife each, one automatic weapon and a small pod of spare ammunition was all that their new captives yielded, but it was better than nothing. Straightening up, O'Neill glanced at his colleague.

"Change your kit, Teal'c. Theirs are in better repair and it might help us get out of this place. Take this stuff too," he added, nodding at one half of the equipment, "It's not much, but I'll do."

The Komekian uniforms weren't a perfect fit by any means, but they were heavier duty than their SGC BDUs, and at the very least would offer better protection in their journey across the ice floe. Once ready himself, O'Neill left Teal'c to finish kitting up and approached the protestors.

Toram smiled, though it was shadowed with anxiety. "So now you are free, Colonel O'Neill."

"We're out of a cell, Toram," O'Neill corrected him. "We've still got a long to go way before we're free."

"Well, you have a better chance now," said the young man as Teal'c approached. "Komek has a better chance." He held out a hand toward Jack. "I trust you to save my world, Colonel."

O'Neill nodded, clasping Toram's hand in his own. "I hate having to leave you guys here, but it's safer this way."

"I know. Now you must go, swiftly. They will soon be missed."

Turning, Jack locked their cell, securing the two still-unconscious guards within. Then, with one last glance and nod toward the protestors, he and Teal'c ascended the stairs.

* * *

The noise hit Daniel like a physical blow as soon as he exited the gate, so powerful that it knocked the breath from his body. Screams pierced the roiling air, which was shockingly hot – burning with the discharge of a thousand bullets. Smoke tainted the sky, turning it acrid and blue, making his eyes water. It was impossible to focus on anything – everything was moving, too fast, _too fast – _the snow, the air, the soldiers around him. Daniel let his foot drop from the snow crawler's pedal, stunned by the suffocating force of the battle around him.

"Daniel!" Sam's voice screamed at him from his right, piercing the melee, "Don't stop! Keep moving, Daniel! Do you hear me? _Keep moving_!"

Her voice was enough to jolt Daniel out of his momentary stupor. He kicked the snow crawler's accelerator again, spurring it back into life as he tried to follow Sam. A high-pitched whistle shattered his already fragmented hearing. He looked up to see a grenade plunging toward him., and then heard Sam screaming his name again. He forced the crawler into a burst of movement, lurching forward violently. The artillery hit the patch of snow Daniel had just vacated with a deafening blast. He was close enough that the force skewed his wheels, sending his crawler into a brief skid and splattering him with freezing snow and cruel shards of ice.

He drew level with Sam and she waved him past her, her attention on the enemy line to their left. Her P-90 was in her hands and she loosed a volley of bullets in their direction as Daniel juddered past her on the uneven snow. He paused, turning to see if she was following, but she waved him on.

"Get as clear as you can – I'll follow. Go now!"

Daniel slung his P-90 over his back and gunned the quad, nudging it forward across the bruised ice. There was a clear patch of snow to his right and he edged toward it, ducking as another bullet whistled past his ear. Daniel held off looking to see whether Sam was behind him until he'd travelled several feet.

Turning around, the archaeologist saw his colleague fire off one last round of bullets before dropping her weapon on its sling and reaching for the crawler's controls. Pushing the tough little vehicle as hard as she could, Sam was almost at his position when a huge explosion knocked it clear into the air, throwing the Major from her seat, turning her over and plunging her face down into the compacted snow. Even from where he stood, Daniel could see the blood beginning to form around her temple, and she didn't move.

"Sam!" he screamed, automatically sliding from his own quad and making his way toward her. "Sam!"

He only realised the danger he was in when he saw one of the SGC Marines enter the same clean patch of snow, clearly attempting to out-flank the enemy. The soldier only got a few paces past Sam's position before he too was blown off his feet. This time Daniel saw where the force of the explosion had come from. Not from an airbourne rocket launcher, as he had first assumed, but from beneath the snow itself. He stopped dead.

"Mines," he whispered to himself, automatically looking down at his feet. "It's a mine field."

A bullet whipped through the cold air and past his cheek, and Daniel dropped to his knees, taking his P-90 back into his hands as he looked across the ice toward the prone Sam. She hadn't moved from where she lay, though thankfully the snow crawler hadn't landed on top of her and now rested at a skewed angle on its nose a few feet to her left.

Muttering a few curses to himself that he'd learnt from Jack over the years, Daniel began to edge forward on his knees. It was a slow process, pushing his fingers deep through the snow, seeking the mines that lay between him and Sam. Twice his submerged hands brushed against a hard surface and he jerked back, terrified of setting off a blast. It seemed to take an age before he had reached her, bullets cutting around him like blades . He heard another desperate scream and a deadened thud rise above the mess of noise. Another Marine had been caught in the minefield, ripped apart with appalling force. Daniel swallowed the fear and bile building in his gut, shutting his eyes briefly, forcing himself to focus. He had to get Sam out of here. They had to complete this mission, or all of this death and mayhem would have been for nothing. Opening his eyes again, Daniel pushed himself forward, chin grazing the bloodied snow.

Reaching Sam, Daniel laid out flat beside her, placing his lips near her ear as he felt for a pulse. It was there, though faint beneath her chilled skin.

"Sam. Can you hear me? You've got to wake up."

Getting no answer, Daniel felt around in the ice that surrounded them. Finding no mines in their direct vicinity, he decided that whatever Sam's injuries, he had to turn her over. Seeing the twisted bulk of her snow crawler nearby, Daniel tipped her in that direction. It wasn't much cover, but it was better than nothing.

Daniel's stomach turned as he saw Sam's face. It was already bluish, badly bruised where she had hit the snow head first, and a nasty gash had split her forehead. Apart from that, however, Daniel couldn't see any other injuries, though it was hard to tell if anything was broken beneath the heavy BDUs and flak jacket the Major wore.

Grabbing his water flask from his pocket, Daniel tried to ignore the sounds of bloody battle that rose behind him. He dreaded to think how many casualties the SGC had sustained in this battle, which to his usually peaceful ears seemed as bad as any war film he'd sat though as a teen. The smell of gunpowder was over powering, and twice he gagged as it filled his mouth with choking smoke. Every thud of every rocket pounded at his chest, his ribcage concussed by each unholy blast. He was almost deaf with it, a disconcerting muffle that did nothing to lessen the dull, incessant, useless terror that had taken root beneath his shoulderblades.

Tipping up the bottle, he splashed some water across Sam's face, wiping it away with his icy fingers. He didn't want it to freeze, he just wanted the sensation to wake her up.

"Come on, Sam, or we're both going to die out here. Haven't got a hope of getting to the Ha'tak on my own. Or even to the DHD, for that matter. Come on."

Sam spluttered suddenly, taking a gulp of air, eyes fluttering wildly.

"Hey," Daniel said with a smile, desperately relieved, "Hey! There you are."

"Daniel?" Sam coughed again, struggling to sit up.

"Don't move so fast. You hit a mine, Sam - they're everywhere."

"Oh, god – the snow crawler."

"Mine's still in one piece. Where are you hurt? Can you tell if anything's broken?"

Sam levered herself up, leaning weakly against the wreck of her crawler. Shutting her eyes, she seemed to be doing some sort of internal check, flexing each muscle to find any damage. She opened her eyes after a couple of minutes, and Daniel noted that it took her a while to focus.

"One… maybe two broken fingers… And maybe a rib, but I can breathe…"

"Good… that's good…"

Sam opened her eyes again and looked around for a couple of seconds before spying Daniel's own quad, still standing unharmed a couple of hundred yards away. His friend shook her head as if to clear it and then grimaced as the pain from the wound on her forehead finally registered.

"I've got to try and do something about that for you."

"No time!"

"My quad's not far…"

Sam nodded, eyes still screwed shut. "Go, Daniel. I'm right behind you." She opened her eyes again when she realised he hadn't moved. "We don't have a choice. We stay here, we die. I can make it. Just go, Daniel."

The battle was still raging around them as they reached Daniel's snow crawler. A spattering of bullets had grazed the quad's wing, puncturing a jagged line of holes into the polished metal. Turning again to face Sam as she continued her struggle through the snow, Daniel reached out a hand, but despite her injuries, the Major was way ahead of him. With one swift movement, Sam forced her legs over the back of the crawler. "Start her up, Daniel."

Sliding in front of her, Daniel kicked the engine into gear and turned the quad, heading out onto the open snow flat with the sound of battle still raging behind them.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	13. Chapter 13

**Preservation**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Ahead of him, O'Neill crouched in a doorway, watching for the approach of more troops. Teal'c waited for the signal, trying to ignore the pressure on his leg wound and an incessant pain in his chest. Teal'c could feel the strength ebbing from him, an incessant drain on his physical resources. But he would not give in to this all-too-human weakness. He would not let O'Neill down by being unable to complete this task. Teal'c knew that his colleague would never leave him behind in hostile territory, and so if Teal'c could not make it out of Barask alongside the colonel they would both be recaptured, or, killed.

Trying to sharpen his attention, Teal'c shut his eyes briefly in an attempt to listen to what was going on around them both. The base's metal construct had not been an asset to them, turning every move they made into deafening clangs that could be heard for meters ahead of their position.

"O'Neill," he whispered suddenly. "Someone approaches."

Teal'c saw O'Neill nod without turning, and then raise one hand with four fingers outstretched. When, after a moment, the warrior saw his companion fold one finger out of sight, he understood what it meant. A countdown. Three seconds and Teal'c was expected to fight whatever it was coming down the corridor out of his eyeline.

Tensing, Teal'c glanced down to check the weapon he had stolen from the Komekian guard he had felled. Given a choice, the Chulakian certainly wouldn't have gone into a battle armed only with an unfamiliar weapon, but right now there was no choice. He would have to make the best of it.

Just as he glanced back up at O'Neill's signalling hand, a klaxon went off, flashing a red light above their heads. O'Neill immediately retreated back into the room in which Teal'c sheltered, moving his hand across his throat in a cutting motion. Tensely, the two soldiers listened as the sound of shouts and running feet echoed beneath the incessant sound of the whining alarm.

Teal'c looked at O'Neill, who frowned in response. None of the frenetic movement they were hearing was moving in the direction of the cells – it did not seem as if their escape had been discovered. If the soldiers were occupied for an emergency other than their escape, then it could be to their advantage.

Still silent, O'Neill moved across the room toward the large, unadorned single window that overlooked Barask's inner courtyard. Though there were no windows looking out across the Plate, each room on the second level opened onto the courtyard. Teal'c remained beside the door, checking his grip on the Komekian weapon as the red light from the corridor spilled across the threshold of the room. Surely whatever alert Barask was on could give them a chance to escape the complex and make it out onto the Plate.

Seconds later, Teal'c heard a faint tapping from behind him, and glanced back to see O'Neill beckoning him over. Moving backwards cautiously, weapon still cocked and at the ready, Teal'c stopped beside the colonel, raising himself slowly until his eyeline was high enough to see whatever O'Neill had scouted out of the window.

Barask's courtyard was alive with activity, with dozens of black-clad troops moving in tight line formations to and from the main entrance. It was clear that there was some large operation in progress, and as Teal'c looked on Barask's main gates opened, folding back into the walls of the complex to allow three parties of twenty troops out onto the Plate. They were marching quickly, determined steps in time with their colleagues, and they had no means of transport.

"I've counted ten groups already," O'Neill mouthed, as the two men sank once more below the windowsill, "and more assembling now."

"At least two hundred troops. No doubt heading for the Stargate."

"That'd be my guess."

"Then it would seem that the battle, if it has not already commenced, is imminent."

"We've got to get out of here, T. I figure we make a break for it when most of those men have moved out."

Involuntarily, Teal'c glanced down at his leg.

"Think you can make it?"

"Yes, O'Neill, though I will not pretend it will be without difficulty on my part."

O'Neill nodded, clearly troubled.

"I will not let you down, O'Neill."

The colonel nodded again, slapping Teal'c gently on the shoulder. "I know you won't, Teal'c."

* * *

The corridors of the alien ship seemed damper than the last time Mikas had walked through them. Then the walls had been frozen, ice-lined and still as they had passed. Now, however, the shaking that had shocked Major Carter into action on the bridge could be felt even here, in what could only be the bowels of the vessel.

Mikas shivered as he watched the walls drip tiny rivulets of water onto the cold floor on which he walked. Despite his best intentions to stay focused, the soldier could not help Colonel O'Neill's final impassioned plea from echoing through his mind. And at the moment, even though there was the stern figure of Grisk stalking ahead of him, Mikas couldn't help thinking that there must be something in the alien's words. The ice around this ship was already melting. What would happen if it corroded further? If the ship was powered to it's full capacity? Surely that could only be harmful to Komek. Yet Grisk had adamantly insisted that the ship could be used as a weapon against Earth's troops. They had planted it here as a way of gaining access to Komek, and now it would be used against them in turn. It seemed only just.

"Mikas!" the sound of Grisk's harsh voice startled Mikas out of his uneasy thoughts. The young man looked up to see the commander eyeing him suspiciously. "You are slowing our progress. Keep pace with the rest of us or I will make an example of you. Understand."

"Yes, Commander."

"We do not have long," Grisk continued, turning back toward the direction in which he led. "Any delay could be fatal. The blood of Komek could be on your head – is that what you want?"

"Of course not, Commander. I was just thinking –"

The commander stopped dead, causing every other member of the party to also grind to a halt. Grisk turned on Mikas, and the young soldier saw a steely glint in his eye that had never been there before.

"I am not interested in your thoughts, Mikas. I am interested in your actions."

Mikas met Grisk's eyeline and held it as his imposing bulk moved closer. Though intimidated, Mikas was above all puzzled. He had transferred as one of Grisk's own command, having served with the commander for more than a year. Never had he seen such a ruthless look in the senior soldier's eye, or such an air of brutality in his stance. Grisk was respected for the very fact that he had such qualities within him but never needed to resort to them. Yet now they were there, on the surface, all the terrifying traits for which this military man was known, admired, feared. And Mikas wondered what had brought them out. What had made the commander feel he had to now project them above all else?

Grisk continued to move toward Mikas until he stood eye-to-eye with his soldier. "Do not even think about questioning me again," the commander warned, "or I will kill you."

"Yes sir."

Grisk continued to stare at him for a few moments, and Mikas could not shake the feeling that instead of the eyes he knew assessing him, there was another being looking at him from within Grisk's skull. An old, malevolent force that had nothing to do with the commander he knew.

After another long look, Grisk moved back to the head of their small column. Mikas let out a shaky breath, glancing at the soldier nearest him with a brief, nonchalant shrug.

* * *

Riding pillion behind Daniel on the uneven surface of the Plate was not one of the most comfortable places that Sam Carter had ever been in her life. Each bounce on the unpredictable snow forced her fractured bones into motion, and as a consequence Carter found her jaw aching with the effort of keeping it clenched against the pain.

A cough wracked her slim frame, leaving her breathless as she fought to control the motion in her throat.

"Sam?" Daniel shouted over his shoulder, battling against the wind that was once more rising across the landscape. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?"

It was a moment before Carter could regain her breath and answer. "No, I'm fine Daniel. Keep going."

"How far do you think we are from the crevice?" Daniel shouted.

As she opened her mouth to reply, Carter felt the cold metallic tang of fresh snow lash against her lips. "Probably another hour, if we keep going at this pace and don't encounter any resistance. Or any more snowfall," she added, glaring up at the sky. Heavy grey clouds scudded low over the wide white horizon, making her hope seem vaguely ridiculous. Her luck was running on empty today.

Sam rested her head against Daniel's back, allowing herself to give into the pain for a moment. It flooded her head like a drug, spreading through her skull and upwards from her aching chest. If only she could just slip into sleep for a moment…

Her radio crackled, fizzling into life beneath her BDUs. Straightening up, Carter pulled the radio up to her mouth. More flakes of soft snow landed on her gloved knuckles and she prayed that this storm would be no more than a shower. The last thing she and Daniel needed was to be lost out on the Plate.

"_Major Carter, this is Major Starling. Do you read?_"

"Carter here, Major. I read you."

"_Major, be advised that hostiles are moving in your direction_." Starling's voice was masked by the fierce sounds of battle. Clearly things at the Stargate had yet to burn themselves out. And now they were coming her way.

"Copy that, Colonel. Can you advise on how many hostiles we can expect?"

"_Two, maybe three squads," _came the Major's unwelcome answer. _"We'll give you back up as soon as we can."_

"Got it. Carter out." Dropping her radio, Carter tapped Daniel on the shoulder. "Bad news, Daniel. We're going to have company."

"They don't want to make it easy for us, do they?"

"Well, with any luck we'll reach the Ha'tak before they catch up with us – it should be far easier to defend our position from in there. And we've got a couple of hours head start on them, so there's a good chance we will."

Daniel nodded, "Better put my foot down."

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	14. Chapter 14

Preservation Chapter Fourteen

A/N: - Just wanted to say, thanks for everyone who's reading and reviewing. Glad some of you are enjoying it! A short bit today. I'll try to post more later if I get a chance.

* * *

O'Neill slipped out of the compound door swiftly and silently, like an eel moving through water, with Teal'c close behind him. The adrenaline was pumping through his body as he moved, though the seasoned officer took pains to seem as natural as possible now that he was in the open. Dressed in the same BDUs as the very few other troops that still moved around the courtyard, Jack knew that he and Teal'c blended in. With no sign that the exodus of soldiers would end any time soon, he hoped they would be able to slip out on the end of one of the columns. In his pocket was a compass and Toram's hastily-scrawled directions to the protestors' hidden vehicle.

The main gates were still open, and through them it was clear to see that a storm was rising on The Plate. With any luck – and god knew they were due some – the two Earth soldiers would be able to drop away without confrontation once their chosen squad was far enough from Barask.

Jack glanced at Teal'c. Under his new uniform, it was impossible to tell that the big warrior was suffering. He'd somehow found a last reasource of energy and was clearly focused on nothing but the task at hand. O'Neill was grateful both for Teal'c's strength and for his presence – for this mission at least, he couldn't think of a better companion.

From inside the base, another group of soldiers appeared, obviously about to head out in the direction of the gate. Jack felt Teal'c tense beside him, and nodded without meeting his eye. This was it. The trick would be to add themselves to the column close enough not to arouse suspicion from the guards on Barask's watchtowers, but with enough distance that the last soldiers in the group wouldn't notice when they dropped away.

When the order came for the troops to form straight for the march, Teal'c and Jack were ready. They fell in exactly as the rest of the soldiers did, backs straight as ramrods, arms held stiffly at their sides. At least they were in no danger of the two soldiers directly in front of them not recognising them – these troops were obviously well-drilled to stare straight ahead, to focus only on keeping formation.

When the order came to march, O'Neill noticed the short arm movements of the Komekian soldiers, and adjusted his position to match. He knew he wouldn't have to check to see that Teal'c had done the same.

And so, quietly, swiftly and without a gun battle, the two escapees marched out of their prison.

* * *

Daniel was finding it increasingly difficult to see any further than a metre ahead. The snow was falling faster and faster and a wind had risen that whipped the fresh flakes into blinding flurries.

"Daniel," Sam shouted over his shoulder, "we're going too slow. They'll catch us."

"I'm doing my best, Sam. I can hardly see in this."

"If they catch us safe driving isn't going to help."

The archaeologist sighed. He'd never realised just what a bad back-seat driver Sam would be. Daniel suspected that her increasingly fractious attitude had more to do with the difficult task ahead and the ticking clock that was against them than his driving, but it wasn't helping.

"Sam, I'm doing my best."

There was a pause, before Daniel felt his friend's hand on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just – this blizzard is going to get worse, and if they catch us –"

Her words were silenced as something whistled past their quad, impacting with the snow in front of them and exploding. The force shook the ice beneath them, almost turning the snow crawler over. Looking back over his shoulder Daniel could see at least two Komekian crawlers behind them, each with a pillion rider armed with what looked like a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher.

"Looks like they've got us anyway!" Daniel shouted, leaning forward over the quad handles again and pushing onwards around the pit in the snow before them.

Sam didn't answer, and Daniel felt her moving around behind him on the quad. Glancing over his shoulder again, he caught sight of the back of the Major's head, and realised that she'd turned around and was now facing the enemy. As he turned back, Daniel heard her loose a stream of bullets toward their pursuers, and was suddenly glad that he was driving. For all his seven year's experience in the field of battle, Daniel still preferred to let his military colleagues do the killing. Although at the moment, it was debateable whether it would be the Komekians doing the dying.

Another shudder passed through the quad, and Daniel felt Sam shout in alarm as she almost lost her balance. Reaching back, he grabbed a handful of her BDUs and held on for dear life. He'd be damned if he lost Sam to this planet too.

The shuddering stopped, and Daniel realised for the first time that it hadn't been preceded by an explosion. Whatever the shaking that had almost caused them to pitch into the snow, it wasn't as a result of the Komekian assault. Ahead of them, the mountains loomed ever closer. They were so close, he realised. So –

This time there was definitely an explosion, and it came so near to hitting them that Daniel was deafened by the blast. For a moment he had the sensation of sliding sideways, and then realised that he was no longer looking at the snow on the ground, but rather at the snow in the air. The blast turned the crawler over, hurling both of its' passengers into the snow. His impact on the hard ice of the Plate was enough to knock the breath from his lungs and make his head ring, but thankfully nothing more.

"Sam!" he shouted, over the continuing rattle of gunfire, looking around in an attempt to see through the blinding blizzard. There was no answer, and it wasn't until he saw her crouched a few yards to his left, rapidly firing her P-90 at the fast-approaching Komekian troops, that he realised the gunfire he could hear was hers. The swiftly falling snow gave everything a patina of unreality, as if what was taking place on the Plate was nothing but an image on a distant television plagued by interference. Relieved that Sam was at least alive, the archaeologist started moving toward her but was cut off by a flurry of shots aimed at him that ripped into the snow around his feet.

"Daniel! Get as low as you can, and stay there!"

He dropped to his knees and burrowed as far into the snow as he could. It was deep here, undisturbed for god knew how long, and thanks to the roaring blizzard, it was getting deeper all the time. Daniel reached for his own P-90 which should have been slung across his back but realised that it had gone, knocked from his body when he as thrown from the snow crawler. Looking back at the second car wreck he'd seen today Daniel wondered if he could make it across the snow without being seen. If he stayed, as Sam had said, as low as possible…

There was the massive sound of cracking, like a bolt of lightning snapping out of hot dry air in the height of a Colorado summer, and the eerie, explosion-less shuddering started again. He looked back toward their pursuers, wondering if this was some new weapon they had pulled from their apparently endless arsenal, and realised that they had stopped returning Sam's fire. Instead, the men were in turn shouting at each other and looking around frantically at the ground under their feet.

There was another crack, and this time Daniel saw something. It snaked through the snow toward their enemy, a shadow of living negative space that tore into the snow like a flame. It reached the Komekians, who had seen the widening crevice coming toward them and were trying to get out of its path, but to no avail. Instead it swallowed them whole, the men and their vehicles caught up in the fearful noise of cracking age-old ice. They disappeared from view in a flurry of screams and crashing equipment, and the crevice continued on its destructive path across the ice toward the centre of the Plate.

Eventually the shuddering stopped, returning silence to the shattered ice field. The crevice that had formed before them was at least five meters wide at the surface, running in a jagged line as far as the eye could see in both directions. (Which side of it are they on?) Seeing movement to his left, Daniel stood, shaking the snow from his BDUs and moving to meet Sam as she trudged toward him. She seemed shaken.

"Daniel," she asked, glancing him over in concern, "are you okay?"

"Fine…"

Sam shook her head in dismay, wiping away a layer of snow to look at her watch, "I think the cascade has somehow speeded up. Either that or my calculations were wrong. That would be the sort of reaction I'd expect toward the closing stages of ignition…" She looked toward the mountains, and then their second ruined vehicle.

"Looks like we're going to have to do the rest of the journey on foot," Daniel added.

"Looks like it," Sam agreed, a weary look passing her face as she reached for her radio. "I'd better tell Major Starling that we're no longer being pursued."

"Right. I'll see if our packs are salvageable from the wreckage."

Sam nodded, pulling the radio up to her mouth. "Be careful, Daniel. In this blizzard it's going to be hard to see any more crevices under the snow."

He nodded, turning away as she began to speak into the radio. This was a bleak place, he realised, where men could be swallowed up whole and hidden from view within seconds. He wondered if that was how it had been for the Ha'tak, all those many centuries ago. Had those Jaffa died on impact, or had they seen their cold death coming, like an unavoidable crevice in the ice?

Daniel felt Sam's presence at his side and shook himself. One look at Sam's face told him that there was bad news to come. "What is it?" he asked.

"There are more troops coming after us. Starling says they've overtaken him on the Plate. They're heading this way."

"How many?"

"Too many for us to take on alone. The Major's doing his best, but –" Sam shrugged, "he thinks they've been ordered to abandon the 'gate in favour of defending the Ha'tak."

"That… sounds like something a Goa'uld would do…"

Sam nodded grimly. "Yeah."

Daniel looked back at the mountain range, and suddenly it didn't seem as close as it had when they'd been safely aboard the speeding quad.

"Come on," Sam said, reaching for her pack from the wreckage. "We've got to try."

Daniel nodded, mirroring her actions as he swung his own pack onto his back. "I wish Jack and Teal'c were here" Sam looked at him, nodding, and wordlessly turned toward the mountain as she wiped the snow from her eyes.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	15. Chapter 15

**Preservation**

**Chapter Fifteen**

The wind was rising across the frozen wilderness of The Plate, and with the wind came the first signs of fresh snow. Jack glanced up at the sky, seeing the indolently melancholic grey tainted with streaks of white. There would be a blizzard soon enough. Despite the danger of being exposed on the Plate in such conditions, O'Neill willed the weather to get worse, and quickly. If they were to slip away unseen, how better than under cover of snow fall?

He looked at Teal'c marching beside him. The big man had pulled his stolen cap low over his eyes, but Jack could see the fiercely determined set of Teal'c's jaw. He was pale, but seemed to show no signs of succumbing to the pain he must be feeling. The colonel could only hope that Toram's directions and equipment were up to the rigours of The Plate. If his coordinates were off by even half a kilck, Jack and Teal'c could be wandering for days and still not find the protestors' hidden transport. Teal'c was bearing up now, but if he had to trek the whole way to the Ha'tak…

Jack squared his shoulders, banishing his worries to the strong box in his mind where he kept all his troubles. They'd make it. They had to. Somewhere out there, he knew Carter and Daniel would be doing their damndest to reach the Ha'tak. He wasn't going to let them down.

* * *

This time the creaking shudder was unmistakable, and Mikas caught several of the other guards frowning at each other in discomfort. They had been carrying out Grisk's bidding for several hours now within the submerged ship, and Mikas guessed that they were all in need of some fresh air. Here, inside these dank corridors, the atmosphere was growing staler by the minute. The damp had risen even more, despite Grisk's determination to ignore Mikas' concerns. And now, the soldier's thoughts were becoming increasingly negative. The structure of the ship itself was beginning to shake, not in the fractious manner that it had when Major Carter had first detected the fault, but with deep, purposeful shudders, as if trying to break free from its icy prison.

Mikas had been posted as guard in the doorway of what Grisk had assured them all was the reactor room. How he knew this was a mystery, but no one dared ask. Everyone was afraid. The Commander was known for being tough but fair, demanding but rewarding. Now all Mikas could see was an angry individual so removed from his troops that none of them had the courage to question the wisdom of their actions.

Moving slightly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Mikas watched the activity around the rector core. Grisk had instructed the two engineers that had accompanied them to remove several panels from the walls of the room, within which had been rows and rows of intricately place coloured crystals. Having examined them for several moments, Grisk was now instructing the engineers to remove this one or that one, replacing them here, or there. Mikas couldn't shake the words that O'Neill had spoken as the soldier had left the cell complex for the last time. He'd described Grisk's behaviour perfectly. Grisk _had _changed, there was no doubt about that, and the more Mikas analysed these changes, the more his behaviour fitted into O'Neill's shouted assessment. The fact that the alien should be right irked almost as much as Grisk's temper… O'Neill was responsible for the deaths of his brothers-in-arms, and there was no way that Mikas wanted to think for a second that his actions may be justified. And yet, as the young soldier looked now at his commander…

Grisk was tough, but he wasn't a torturer. Grisk was smart, but not smart enough to instinctively know how to ready this submerged ship for combat with an alien race. So what had changed to make him act so?

Shifting his weight back to his other foot, Mikas tightened the grip on his weapon and narrowed his eyes as he looked at Grisk, towering over the two silently working engineers. A new terror had overtaken him. If O'Neill was right… If Grisk wasn't the man he had once been… What _was _he?

* * *

It didn't take long for the blizzard to set in properly. Within minutes, it was almost impossible to see the soldiers in front of them, and therefore not at all difficult to leave their column. Glancing at each other, Jack and Teal'c, with one mind, simply stopped. The soldiers in front of them didn't notice, marching on into the maelstrom. Within minutes, the SGC men were alone, two single figures lost in a snow storm.

O'Neill wasn't going to take any chances – it was possible that sooner or later they'd be missed. He pulled the tattered piece of paper from his pocket and held it up to his face, struggling to see anything through the battering snow.

"Okay," he shouted over the noise of the wind, waving one arm in the direction the compass indicated. "This way. Let's go."

They trudged into a blank, featureless world of white.

* * *

Carter stumbled, almost falling forward into a fresh drift of snow. The blizzard had lessened a little, but not enough to make their journey any easier. They had been trudging through thigh-high snow for at least two hours now. Every step had been an effort of the utmost severity, and the threat of exhaustion was now becoming a greater problem than that of being overtaken by the Komekians.

She didn't even want to think about how long there was left on the clock. Though of course she'd soon know when her time was up – this entire sheet of ice would crack and melt as soon as the ship's reactor powered up to its full level, and as close as they were now she and Daniel didn't stand a chance. But then, the same went for her colleagues closer to the 'gate. Sam shuddered, hunching her shoulders against the thought and moving forward once more.

"We'd better try and speed it up, Daniel," she shouted.

Daniel nodded, too exhausted to reply. They ploughed on through the snow, numb feet pushing into the soft drifts. Looking back over her shoulder, Carter scanned the solidifying horizon anxiously. The last thing they needed were the Komekian troops on their tail.

* * *

O'Neill felt like punching something. It felt as if they had been walking for hours, but they still hadn't found Toram's wheels. Jack had checked and re-checked the directions and the compass, and he thought – no, he was sure – that he'd followed the bearing perfectly. And yet, there was no sign of the vehicle. It didn't help that the blizzard had yet to blow itself out. He couldn't see a damn thing, and to make things worse, that was making him jumpy.

Through the roaring of the storm Jack was constantly hearing phantom noises, booms that made him think that they were already too late and Sobek had torn the Ha'tak from the ice, and echoing shouts that convinced him that their pursuers were close on their trail.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around. Teal'c was trying to make himself heard through the screaming wind.

"What is it, T?"

"We must rest, O'Neill."

"You're in pain?"

"I am."

"Let me take a look." Jack bent to look at Teal'c's leg, and confirmed his worst fears. Blood had soaked through the Jaffa's Komekian uniform – the thick bandages beneath must be saturated with fresh blood. He straighted up, wiping frozen fingers across his frigid face. "Okay, buddy. Let's take a break."

They dug a snow hole, which was inadequate but the best shelter they could hope for, and huddled into it. Teal'c immediately shut his eyes – some form of restorative meditation, Jack assumed. Kel'no'reem no longer had the effect it once had, but Teal'c still swore by the process.

Jack looked out across the snowfield. The world had taken on a different look since the blizzard began, a harsh white snowscape of peaks and troughs that held god knew what beneath. Though he did know what, and he'd rather he didn't.

"Next time they tell me it's a snow planet, I'm retiring," he muttered to himself. "Nothing good ever happens to me in the snow."

He had to face facts. They were trapped out here on the Plate. Their escape had done nothing. They couldn't find the vehicle, they'd never make it on foot – there could be no hope of them reaching the Ha'tak in time to help Carter out, and as things stood at the moment they'd be lucky to survive until the cascade reaction melted the Plate.

Crouching on his haunches beside Teal'c, Jack rubbed one hand across his face. He'd actually thought they could make it. He'd actually thought, in his gung-ho 'I can do anything - I'm Jack O'Neill' way, that he and Teal'c could cross the wastes of an alien planet and save the day. And now, stranded as surely as they were, he realised just how foolhardy that conviction had been. He'd dragged Teal'c, injured, out into the cold, and now they would both die here. And he'd never even know if Carter and Daniel had worked their magic and saved Komek. Or if Sobek would have the chance of attacking Earth.

Sitting deep in a snow drift with the storm roaring about his ears, O'Neill felt a depth of despair settle on his shoulders that he had rarely experienced in his life. It settled around him like a blanket, and as it wrapped itself around him, so did his exhaustion. It tightened on his mind like a vice, until all Jack could think of was closing his eyes and letting the snow cover him up completely.

_I can just sleep_, he thought drowsily, _Just let it all fade away…_

The colonel's eyes dropped toward sleep and he tipped sideways. The motion was enough to jolt him fully awake again, angry with himself. Jack O'Neill wasn't a quitter. If he was going to die, then he'd die on his feet in this mess, not asleep on the ground while good people – his team – tried to stop this catastrophe.

Jack glanced at Teal'c, still deep in meditation, as he once again pulled out Toram's directions and compass. They had to be close. They _had _to be. He stood up again, feeling himself buffeted by the wind, and stepped forward. He sank up to his thighs in fresh snow, and had to struggle to pull himself out. _Come on, O'Neiil_, he told himself, _pull yourself together. Get Teal'c out of this, if it's the last thing you do_.

As Jack rolled himself on to his side to lever himself out of the snow, something caught his eye. The blizzard changed direction for a moment, wind surging along a different route, and in the sudden change a shape was silhouetted against the darkening sky. O'Neill paused for a moment, trying to keep the image in his mind for a few more seconds. It had already been obliterated by the flakes of vicious ice, so swiftly and surely that almost immediately the Colonel thought he had been mistaken. But still, he moved toward where the silhouette had been, with nothing left to lose.

Standing again, Jack shuffled forward, at first meeting nothing but more deep drifts of snow. But then he connected with something more solid than the falling white, a bulk that did not give when he pushed and stood as high as his midriff. Reaching out, O'Neill touched the object, which although covered with snow, gave slightly under his inspection. In fact, it was covered by a thin veil of something, something as white as the snow around it that disguised it from the eye amid the limitless expanse of the Plate. Heart jumping, Jack struggled to get a grip on the substance, realising that it was disguising something else beneath it.

"Teal'c!" he shouted, ecstatic, though his words were immediately lost in the crashing storm.

After several moments of trying to remove the cover, O'Neill dropped to his knees, cupping his hands to shovel the still-falling snow away from where it weighed on the object. Eventually, he found an edge of what felt like heavy weight tarp, and pulled upwards. It wasn't easy, with the fresh snow weighing ever heavier on the nameless bulk, but the colonel kept pulling, filled with a desperate hope that flooded him with as much emotion as his abject despair had done just a few short moments before.

And then, there it was – a flash of colour beneath the weight of white, and O'Neill knew for sure that he'd found their only chance of salvation. Toram's snow crawlers, buried wheel-deep in snow, hidden beneath a covering that would be impossible to detect from any great distance.

Overcome, Jack collapsed for a moment, falling back into the drifts of snow surrounding the two hidden vehicles. All he had to do now was figure out which way they were supposed to be heading and how to fight their way into the Ha'tak. Piece of cake.

* * *

The blizzard finally began to drop about an hour later, a cause for conflicting emotions, as far as Sam was concerned. On the one hand, they could see where they were going and could hear each other. On the other hand, it meant the enemy would be able to see them far more easily too. Sam had spent most of the past 30 minutes craning around, watching the horizon behind them for any sign of movement. Satisfied that they were clear for now at least, Sam was about to turn around again when Daniel grasped her elbow.

"Sam, what's that?"

She looked in the direction that his finger pointed, across the ice before them. There, wavering in the last wind-whisked flurries of snow, was the unmistakable bulk of something moving. The Major grasped her P-90, heart taking up an uneven tattoo as she once again scanned their surroundings. There was no sign of any other activity on the ice, in any direction.

Motioning for Daniel to lay flat, they both plunged themselves into the snow, laying face down in the direction of the moving blob, which was steadily making its way toward the mountains. Opening her pack with fingers that were frozen almost to the bone, Carter pulled out her binoculars. A moment later she turned to Daniel.

"It's a snow crawler. Komekian."

"There's only one?"

"Yes. It could be a messenger for Grisk."

Daniel nodded, taking the binoculars from her and looking through them himself. "What's that on the back? Looks too big to be just one person."

"Not sure. Supplies, maybe. Whatever it is, we should stop it."

"Think one of those things is strong enough for two?"

"Let's hope so. Either way, we'll soon find out." Moving to a crouch, Sam prepped her weapon

"What's the plan?" Daniel asked, repeating her actions with his own P-90.

"It won't be very elegant but we don't have a choice. We'll just have to charge it. I'm going to gamble that the rider won't be able to drive and fire at the same time. Just try not to damage the crawler. I don't have time to patch a tyre."

"Okay." Daniel took another look through Sam's binoculars before handing them back. "He's riding that thing pretty erratically."

Sam took a look. It was true – the driver, clearly hunched over the crawler's controls, wasn't steering the vehicle in a particularly straight line. She shrugged, pushing her sights back into the pack and doing it up. "It could be the terrain," she said, looking for an explanation. "That crevice we saw opening can't have been the only one to form. We'll give it a couple of minutes, until he's a little closer. Wait for my signal."

Daniel nodded, flexing cold fingers around his gun and forcing his elbows deeper into the snow.

* * *

Jack struggled to control the path of the snow crawler as it bumped across the uneven ice. He'd spied a few tell-tale rifts in the snow that could only mean crevices beneath the surface, and between avoiding them and trying to keep Teal'c steady behind him, the going hadn't been particularly smooth. It had taken him a while to get used to the crawler's controls as it was, and now he'd had to sacrifice form for speed. At least the blizzard had stopped, which meant he could see where he was going more easily. The relief Jack had felt when he saw the mountains looming out of the snow exactly where he'd hoped they would be had been great. He'd been half-convinced that he'd turned them around and would end up right on the enemy's doorstep.

As it was, the mountains were growing closer and closer with each moment. Jack hadn't yet come up with a plan of action once he reached the crevice. Teal'c had been fading in and out of consciousness since they'd started their ride, and the climb down the icy crevice was tough going even for an able-bodied man. But he just figured he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. He was currently more concerned with how visible he was now to any scouts that Grisk had been smart enough to post at the mouth of the crevice. The sky above him was growing clearer by the minute, and with the blizzard gone the Plate was as clear and flat as a baseball field.

Suddenly he heard the sharp crack-crack-crack of gunfire and a whistling as the bullets rushed past his head. He ducked, skidding to a sharp halt and plunging over the side of the crawler, pulling Teal'c with him. Pulling his gun from his back, he looked between the crawler's wheel arches, trying to make out his assailants hiding somewhere in the snow.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, "I don't have time for this."

Then he saw movement, as if whoever had fired the shots was thinking the same thing. Two figures snaked out of a snow drift, creeping forward over the layers of snow. They were close, less than 50 yards from his position. He squeezed the trigger, wondering why there were only two of them. Not much of an assault force, but then they could just be scouts from Sobek, checking to see what was going on outside the Ha'tak.

His shots had evidently missed, because the two soldiers moved forward again, ducking into a drift yards closer to his position. He moved slightly, altering his crouched position and edging toward the back of the crawler. They were no doubt better equipped than he was, and he didn't want to fall foul to a pair of binoculars followed by a happy (and accurate) trigger finger. Sure enough, he saw movement as he rearranged himself behind the crawlers rear wheel arch. As if this pile of flimsy metal could protect him. He could do nothing but wait as the two soldiers seemed to be discussing something. Then suddenly, one pulled something out and started waving it. To Jack's astonishment it seemed to be white. Surrender?

A voice carried across the silent white snow.

"Jack? Is that you?"

Jack froze. Surely that couldn't be… Could it? "_Daniel_?"

"Jack!" Daniel's voice carried once more, and O'Neill saw him stand. Another hand flew up from the snow, grabbing a handful of the archaeologist's BDUs. The Colonel uncurled himself and stood up straight, looking across the snow at his two-team mates.

"Carter?" He shouted, "That you?"

She struggled to her feet beside Daniel, and even from this distance he could see the shocked look on her face. He guessed it was probably mirrored on his own – though his heart was pounding with relief. They ran the short distance to his position, skidding to a stop in front of him.

O'Neill eyed the two team-mates he had, less than a day before, given up for dead. Daniel was bruised but seemed in decent shape. O'Neill pulled Daniel into a brief hug, thumping the archaeologist on the back before letting go and turning to his Major. He took in the ugly gash that ran across her forehead and the various purple bruises that mottled her face.

"Hey Carter," he said. "Well, you may not be dead, but you sure look like shit." She grinned, and Jack resignedly admitted to himself that nothing could be further from the truth.

"It's good to see you too, sir."

"Not gonna tell me I look like shit?"

"Well I could, but I thought I'd save it for Teal'c." Her smile fading, the Major moved around the stationary crawler toward the Jaffa's unconscious form, crouching and touching his face. "He really doesn't look too good."

"He had a rough time in Barask and a rougher time leaving it. You know that Grisk is a Goa'uld, right?"

Carter winced, looking up as she spoke. "The possibility had occurred to us, sir. It's Sobek. Daniel figured out that whoever it was Bastet assassinated, it wasn't him."

"Ya think?" O'Neill asked with a sigh. "He's a nasty son of a bitch, too. Teal'c took the brunt of it."

"Any idea what Sobek was planning to do, Jack?" Daniel asked, looking down at Teal'c battered form.

O'Neill shrugged. "No specifics, other than getting the Ha'tak operational. He took a team of engineers down there. I guess he thinks he knows what's wrong with it." The Colonel cast a glance toward his second. "I'm hoping you're not far behind him, Carter."

"I can fix it, sir. But I'm running out of time. It took far longer than I'd anticipated to even get this far. I'm worried about Teal'c but we really have to keep moving sir," Sam shook her head, "We're late enough as it is, and we've got know way of knowing how close behind us those troops are."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me? Troops?"

"I've had radio contact from Major Starling, sir. Apparently the Komekians have abandoned the 'gate and are coming back here – probably to defend the Ha'tak."

O'Neill sighed. "Peachy."

"Yes sir."

"We'd better get moving then." Turning to Daniel, Jack handed him Teal'c's gun. "Here, take this. I don't think Teal'c's going to be using it any time soon."

Daniel nodded, taking the alien weapon and looking at it closely before slinging it around his neck.

Watching Carter and Daniel carry out his orders, Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him. They were alive – they were all alive, at least for now. And SG-1 together were far more likely to succeed in their mission than if they were separated. This is what they did, all the time. Surely, together, they could make it?

[TO BE CONTINUED]


	16. Chapter 16

Preservation

Author's note:

Very sorry for the long absence. Since I last posted I've been picked up by an actual publisher to write an actual novel. Nothing fancy, but it's quite exciting, though also quite daunting. Let's hope I don't fek it up, eh? Anyway, now that I've met my first deadline I wanted to continue posting this. I'll do my best to get the rest of it up in the next week, before I have to submerge myself again. I hope some of you are still enjoying it – thanks for reading, it means a lot.

PS - having massive problems getting this to format properly, so I'm really sorry if all my scene breaks disappear. This site appears to be eating them when I upload. Grr.

Chapter 16

Teal'c came round as Jack and Daniel hauled him from the crawler. His eyes were dull, confused, but O'Neill was relieved to see that he registered the arrival of Daniel and Carter.

"Daniel Jackson… Major Carter," Teal'c managed, his voice hushed against the icy wind.

"Hey, Teal'c," Daniel smiled at his friend. "Good to see you're awake."

Teal'c looked around, raising one hand from where his arm rested across Jack's shoulders and rubbing his face. "We are still on Komek."

"'Fraid so, T," said O'Neill. "Things aren't looking too good, buddy."

Teal'c pushed himself upright. "If we must fight, I am ready, O'Neill. You have only to show me where to go."

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. Teal'c was clearly far from all right, but he was on his feet, and apparently lucid. Right now, that was enough to answer a prayer. "Okay, T. We're going to have to make a run for the crevice. Think you can make it?"

Teal'c stared into the white expanse for a moment, before nodding. "Let us not delay."

The colonel glanced at Carter, and she nodded in discreet understanding. O'Neill and Daniel would take point. Carter would bring up the rear, leaving Teal'c in the middle.

"Alright then. Here's-"

A sudden burst of gunfire echoed across the snowfield. Carter leapt sideways, crashing down as the bullets narrowly avoided tearing her legs to pieces. She scrambled up again, firing back as the rest of the team made a run for it. O'Neill glanced back, relieved to see Teal'c forcing himself into a run.

The gunfire went on and on as their pursuers bounced toward them over the uneven ground. Carter continued to cover her fleeing colleagues, creating a few yards of space between herself and the rest of the team by holding back. Then she fought to catch them up, running backwards awkwardly as she fired off burst after burst.

O'Neill reached the crevice first, relieved to see their rapelling gear still intact. He sent Daniel down ahead of Teal'c, then waited for Carter to reach him. She glanced at him, and he nodded at the rope, urging her to go first. Dropping her weapon on its sling, the Major threw herself over the side. She disappeared from view as Jack fired into the gloom. O'Neill let her have a count of five before he followed, flinging himself over the edge of the crevice so fast he almost lost his grip on the wet rope completely. Carter had cleared it seconds before him, and stood at the bottom. Teal'c and Daniel were headed for the ha'tak.

"Carter!" He yelled, "Where the hell is our back up?"

"I don't know, sir!"

His boots thudded on the ice as he landed beside her. He was out of breath, the exhaustion of this latest race across the ice overriding the adrenaline.

"Sir-"

The rest of Carter's words were cut off by a huge rumble that shook the ground and almost sent both of them off balance as the ice beneath them shifted. They held on to each other as the tremors continued, turning Jack's tired legs to jelly. The noise was immense, but that was nothing compared to the power of the quake. The walls of the crevice began to shift, shuddering as if they were made of nothing more solid than silk. Chunks of ice crashed down toward them, and with it came the rapelling gear. Then, further along the crevice, a figure plunged over the side, plummeting like a rag doll from a high window. It was one of the Komekians, his gun still firing wildly as he fell, screaming, to his death.

The Colonel's first thought was that they were too late, and the Sobek had already started the ha'tak's engines. From Carter's pale face, she obviously thought the same thing. He grabbed her arm, again, pulling her across the shaking ground, heading to where Teal'c and Daniel were trying to keep their footing in the shadow of the ship's huge submerged bulk.

Then Carter stopped, and he realised she was shouting at him, but her words were lost to the din. She pointed her arm, back along the crevice, and he looked to see a huge crack opening in the wall. It was tearing down the ice like a rip in paper, transecting the icy valleu they stood in, just beyond the point where their rope had run. He could see more dark, distant figures, caught in the quake, falling, colliding with the icy walls.

Another crevice opened before their eyes.

Gradually, the violence of the shaking quieted.

"Holy crap, that was close," O'Neil muttered, into the eerie silence that followed.

Carter nodded, mutely. Daniel took a step forward, and raised a shaking hand to his face. "The Komekians that were following us…"

O'Neill nodded. "I think we just caught a lucky break." He glanced at Carter, who was staring out at the ice, clearly shocked. "Carter. I reckon that stopwatch of yours maybe a little… off."

She nodded. "Yes sir. To tell you the truth, I thought that was it. I thought… I thought we were out of time."

He nodded, still catching his breath as he pulled his gun from his shoulder once more. "Well, there are only so many false alarms we can get, Carter, so we'd better get a move on. That latest crevice intersects with this one and the minute those soldiers that are still alive figure they can't get across the gap they'll start looking for an alternative."

Nodding, Carter moved away and primed her own weapon, anxiously scanning the dark route before them. Jack went over to check on Teal'c, who was leaning against the frozen wall, his eyes shut.

"Teal'c?" He asked. "You gonna make it?"

Teal'c opened his eyes and stood straight, inclining his head. "I am, O'Neill."

The colonel nodded, and turned to the rest of the team. "All right, then. Carter, take point. Let's move out."

There was no one guarding the ha'tak's hatch. Sam was, for once, relieved at the natural arrogance of the Goa'uld. Pausing in the silence of the Ha'tak, she crouched with her P-90 up to her shoulder and her sharp eyes looking down the sight. Carter felt the hairs raise on the back of her neck. Beneath her feet, the old metal was thrumming faintly, and above her the lights she had so fatefully activated shone still. The ship was waking up, there was no doubt about it. Stiff life was beginning to circulate in its veins.

After a couple of moments spent scanning her immediate surroundings for signs of movement, Carter returned to the hatch. The Colonel sent Daniel up first, and between them they managed to drag the fallen warrior through the hatch, while Carter kept watch over their all-too-open surroundings. It was ironic, she felt, that after spending the last two days fleeing over an expanse of ice, she felt far more exposed at this moment, surrounded by the gilded, cruel walls of a ship that should have stayed dead and buried.

Once Teal'c was inside the Ha'tak, they took stock of their situation, communicating in hushed tones.

"I have to get to the bridge, sir," Carter explained, as she did a quick check of her pack to make sure nothing had been damaged during their harsh crossing of the Plate. "I need to realign the crystals so that when I reinitiate the broken circuits, I can power the ship down."

"Then what? Can you do everything from the bridge?"

"I doubt it – god knows what they've done to the engine. I suspect I'll have to power it down manually even after I've realigned the altered circuits."

The Colonel nodded, and she could see his thoughts in his eyes as he glanced at the open hatch and grimaced.

"Daniel, Teal'c. Both of you stay here. I don't know how long those troops are going to take to find this place, but they will find it. This is the best place to defend – they'll only be able to send one soldier up at a time. I've got to go after Sobek."

Daniel nodded, and Teal'c said, "We will not let you down, O'Neill."

O'Neill smiled briefly. "No need to even say it, T."

The bridge didn't look as if it had been touched. On the floor near the door were the cooking utensils the colonel had used to make coffee, and as she passed them Carter couldn't believe that she'd drunk the results less than two days ago. It seemed like a lifetime. Across the room were the signs of her activities prior to the cascade reaction – coloured crystals lying in untidy piles before consoles that were now uniformly glimmering with a sheen of meltwater. Glancing up, Carter saw a mass of half-melted stalactities. It wasn't a good sign.

"Is there anything you need?" The colonel asked.

"No sir," she said, though the words "More time" almost slipped from her lips. She was already reaching into her pack.

He nodded, jaw set firm as he made swift work of checking his weapon for combat. She knew he was regretting having to leave Daniel and Teal'c, and would now be forced to do the same to her.

"Maintain radio silence, Major," O'Neill ordered.

"Yes sir."

He paused another moment before leaving the room, and added, "Make sure dinner's ready for when I get back, will ya?"

Daniel glanced at Teal'c. They had taken up positions on either side of the hatch, but had heard nothing since their vigil began. Teal'c had his eyes half-shut, and Daniel wondered if he was attempting to meditate. From where he sat he could see fresh blood on Teal'c's stolen uniform, but the warrior showed no sign of passing out. He was, not for the first time, full of admiration for his friend's ability to push his own needs into the background. He knew from experience that it was a skill Jack shared.

Jack and Sam had been gone for almost twenty minutes, and he wondered how they were faring. Jack had probably already parted company with Sam and the prone Teal'c. How long before Sobek realised they had entered the ship? How could the three of them alone stop the destruction of this world?

Glancing up, Daniel thought he heard movement down the corridor to his left, but it was only a new trickle of water dripping from the once-frozen ceiling.

O'Neill moved swiftly and silently through the corridors of the ship. Sobek and Grisk's men had to be in the engine room, and even as he made his way there Jack could feel another ounce of life seep into the Ha'tak's cold bones.

Ahead of him, another turn in the corridor loomed. Pressing his finger to the trigger of his weapon, Jack crouched and moved forward, knees protesting all the way. If they got out of this, he promised himself, he was taking a vacation. Another one. A fishing trip. Somewhere where there were no –

The thought skittered from mind as he took a cautious look around the corner. At the far end of the corridor were two of Grisk's guards. They were talking to each other, but in hushed, frantic tones. O'Neill frowned as he watched them. Something wasn't right. One was gesticulating to the other, glancing over his shoulder, waving his hands. Then, suddenly, the one that had seemed so agitated turned on his feel and stalked away, boots admirably quiet on the Ha'tak's hard floor. The other soldier watched him go, before glancing around and following slowly.

Jack watched the last man's departure before rocking back on his heels with a frown. It was Mikas.

Mikas watched Tumar go with frustration. Tumar was as level headed as they come, and Mikas had at least expected the seasoned soldier to listen to his concerns about Grisk. But instead, his colleague had cut him dead.

They had all noticed it, Mikas was sure – Grisk's increasingly wild manner, the way his voice fluctuated between control and a ragged tone that Mikas had never heard before and his fellow soldiers seemed anxious to ignore. They were scared, Mikas knew, scared of the attack that was no doubt going on even now on the surface of the Plate, which was so unlike anything they had been forced to encounter for years on Komek. Over the last few days, the universe had changed for them, and it seemed that following Grisk's increasingly erratic and occasionally downright insane behaviour was their way of denying what was happening – both on the Plate, and to their own commander.

Mikas felt the vessel shudder anew, and his thoughts strayed to Major Carter's frantic face before all hell had broken loose. And then there was Colonel O'Neill's warning that Grisk had changed. The Earth Colonel had been right. Grisk was not what he had once been, and the implications of believing this as truth shook the young soldier to the core. If O'Neill had been right, then could Carter have been too?

Another shudder passed through the now constantly humming ship ?), and Mikas turned on his heel, moving back to the engine room. Around him, the ice continued to melt, the water turning to pools beneath his feet, and he couldn't help wondering what was going on above their heads. Was the mountain, as Major Carter had said, disintegrating? Would the effect of this be enough to destroy the whole of Komek?

Mikas tried to push these thoughts from his mind, but even as he turned into the doorway and saw Grisk standing beside the mysterious engine that powered this ship, he knew that something was desperately wrong. Glancing around the room, he saw the other soldiers that had accompanied them watching uneasily. Grisk stood, face broken out into sweat, barking orders at the two engineers that had accompanied them.

Mikas tried to catch Tumar's eye, but failed, and as he scanned the faces of his other colleagues, the young man realised that nothing would be done unless he did it himself.

"Mikas?" The voice was Grisk's, hoarse from shouting orders and who knew what else. Knowing that he'd been caught, Mikas turned slowly to face his leader.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Your attention appears to be wandering. Would you care to explain what's so important to you that my orders fall on deaf ears?"

Mikas hesitated, glancing once more at Tumar and his other fellow soldiers before meeting Grisk's gaze squarely.

"I'm experiencing some…concern, Commander."

Grisk's left eyebrow raised, and Mikas saw his shoulders stiffen as the commander began to walk toward him. Taking a deep breath, Mikas forced himself to stay calm. Around him, his circle of colleagues moved uneasily.

"Concerns, Mikas?" Grisk asked, voice low and threatening. "And what would these 'concerns' be?"

Planting his feet firmly apart, Mikas kept Grisk's eye contact as he said, "I'm not sure we should be doing what we are doing, Commander."

"Really? Is that so?" Grisk, his face menacing, moved closer to Mikas until the toes of their boots were almost touching. "You're not sure about what we're doing? And what about saving Komek from the invaders that our fellow troops are fighting as we speak? Are you sure about that?"

Mikas took another breath, and could feel his colleagues holding theirs as they waited for his answer.

"I do not believe that they are invaders. I believe they are trying to help."

The anger that poured into Grisk's eyes at Mikas' words would have terrified most men. His face changed, twisting into a mask of anger, and it was all that Mikas could do to prevent himself taking a step back. But he kept his stance, staring Grisk in the face. He wanted Grisk to prove him wrong. He wanted to know that he hadn't put his own world in danger by locking O'Neill up, by following the orders of this man. But Mikas saw no such reassurance in the eyes of his commander, merely rage so blind that it had no focus.

Grisk spun away, the fury within him too great to keep him still. "They tried to sabotage this ship, tried to take it from under our noses as if we were foolish infants, and you, Mikas, do not believe?" Grisk spat, "How dare you question my orders, how dare you –"

"Colonel O'Neill told me that powering this ship up beneath this mountain would destroy Komek."

"You would prefer to listen to the leader of a hostile alien force?"

"They were not hostile!" Mikas shouted, his own anger spilling out as he screamed at Grisk. "They came here at our asking! Major Carter made a mistake –"

"A mistake!" Grisk laughed, a cruel sound that echoed from the melting walls like a grate falling, "A mistake! And you believe that?"

"It was a mistake," Mikas said hollowly, "but what you are doing is not. Look at what is happening – you can feel this ship moving in the ice. The ice is melting, and the Plate is moving. What's the point of launching this ship to stop our 'enemies' if doing so destroys Komek anyway? Why would you do that?"

Mikas paused, looking at Grisk as if for the first time. Into the silence broken only by Grisk's ragged breathing, Mikas spoke his thoughts. "O'Neill was telling the truth. You aren't the Grisk we know. What are you?"

Grisk was silent as he moved toward Mikas again, but the young soldier saw the change in his commander's demeanour. And then he saw it – a glow rushing into the man's eyes, a weird light that no one else in the room could see, so close was Grisk to Mikas. Grisk stood like that for several seconds, and Mikas noticed he was tensing his left hand, raising it slowly as if to strike. Then, suddenly, the glow to his eyes was gone, and the murderous rage was replaced by a shocking calm.

Grisk abruptly turned away. "This man is a traitor. He has been offered rewards by our enemies to work against us. Kill him."

Mikas took a step back as his fellow soldiers, shocked, looked between their colleague and their commander.

"I am not the traitor. The man you knew as Grisk is gone. I don't know what he is, but he's trying to destroy our world. If you follow his orders any longer, everyone you love will die. Komek will no longer exist."

The silence continued, and Grisk's impatience grew.

"Kill him! I ordered you! Kill him!"

"But commander," Tumar said hesitantly, "if what you say is true, Mikas should face a court and –"

"Silence! You too are a traitor! Any man who does not follow my orders is to be eliminated!" Grisk spun again, to a younger soldier at his right. "You. Tumar has been demoted. You have taken his place. Carry out my orders before I sentence you to death also."

The soldier masked his surprise and fear, lifting his gun and aiming at Mikas. There was the sound of a loud cracking, and the ship shook once more.

"This is insane!" shouted Mikas, appealing directly to the assembled soldiers. "Listen to what's happening! How can that be good? Can't you see that –"

Grisk glanced once at the soldier beside him, who immediately raised his gun, preparing to take aim. Mikas grasped his own weapon.

"I don't want to fire on my own people," he said, speaking directly to the young man before him. "Come on , Dorak, be sensible."

Dorak shook his head. "Put the weapon down, Mikas."

Tumar moved forward suddenly, his own weapon primed and ready to fire. The movement startled Dorak, who's trigger-happy finger jerked against his weapon. As Tumar fell to the floor, dying or already dead, the young soldier stared at his comrade-at-arms in horror.

There was a sudden commotion from the doorway. Shots rang out, bullets pouring through the aperture and into the chaos, and Mikas saw a flurry of movement.

"Mikas!" his name rang out across the room, above the sudden shouts of his colleagues and the enraged screams of Grisk as the commander took cover behind the partially dismantled engine. There was movement everywhere, shots fired apparently out of panic rather than any clear idea of where they were aimed, smoke rising in the already dim room as the soldiers scrambled for whatever cover was available.

Mikas looked around, ducking toward Tumar. The opening volley of shots had clearly come from the doorway, but now that weapon had fallen silent. Was this the expected attack? Had Earth come this far across the Plate already?

"Mikas!" came the shout again, "This is O'Neill! It's now or never! Help me!"

Mikas was still crouching as O'Neill fired another volley of shots into the room, felling two of his colleagues, whose own weapons clattered to the floor. From behind the engine, Mikas heard Grisk bellow in anger, and turned to see his commander leaning against the wall, eyes flashing in an evil glow that seemed to transported his entire face into the depths of rage.

O'Neill fired again, this time in answer to bullets sent in his direction, and the young soldier knew what the Earth Colonel's last shout had meant. It was now or never – either he sided with Grisk once and for all, or he sided with O'Neill, and turned his weapon on his own men.

Gritting his teeth, Mikas gripped his weapon and dropped to his knees, throwing himseld himself sideways in the direction of Grisk. Squeezing the trigger, he shouted in fury, letting loose a flurry of bullets at his commander.

May the gods forgive me, he thought, as he saw Grisk dive for more cover, but what I do I do for Komek…

TO BE CONTINUED


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter seventeen**

**A/N: **Have had a needed boot up the butt from Baabsm, telling me to sort myself out and get this finished. It just so happens that today is the first time in a long time I don't have anything else I have to write, so I'm going to do just that.

* * *

Daniel was concentrating so closely on tuning out the ambience of the awakening Ha'tak that there was no possibility of him mistaking the sound of ice crunching beneath boots. It emanated through the open hatch, echoing louder with each step the approaching army took toward their destination. Daniel's heart beat faster, fingers trembling slightly as he checked the weapon one last time. This was it. It had come to this. This was he, Daniel Jackson, Earth's most travelled archaeologist, facing an army with nothing but the one weapon he held in his hands. He looked over at Teal'c, who nodded back.

'Alternating fire, Daniel Jackson,' the warrior said.

Daniel took a deep breath, and together, they crouched beside the hatch. The approaching troops were now close enough that Daniel could hear orders being given, shouts echoing against the still-frozen walls of the gully beneath the Ha'tak.

* * *

"Good choice," Jack shouted, as Mikas finally got close enough to hear him over the melee.

"You'd better not be wrong," Mikas bit back, eyes fixed on the engine and his former fellow soliders, holed up behind the it.

"I'm not." Jack replied. "Is there another way out of this room?"

Mikas glanced at him, and the Colonel shrugged.

"If we can't kill them, we've at least got to drive them out of this room. Carter's got to do her thing, and soon, or it'll be too late."

"How long?"

Jack shrugged. He didn't know, but judging by the shuddering of the Ha'tak, which was increasing by the moment, not long at all.

"There's a door behind on the other side of this room, to the left," Mikas told him. 'Behind the engine.'

He was about to tell Mikas to move in on his command when his radio crackled, Daniel's voice yelling over the air waves.

"_Jack, things aren't going too well down here! I can't hold them off much longer and I – argh!"_

"Daniel!" Jack shouted into the radio, "Daniel, come in!"

"_I'm hit, Jack,"_ came Daniel's voice, after a pause. "_It's my arm – I don't… We can't keep this up, Jack. We can't hold the line much longer – prepare for incoming…' _

Jack swore again, ducking as a bullet whistled past his ear from behind the engine.

"Daniel, hold on. I'll be there. I promise. You hear me?"

"_We're trying, Jack."_

"I'll be there," Jack promised again, signing off as he took up his gun again. "God damn it, Mikas, that's it. I've had enough. Let's go!"

Rising out of his crouch, Jack fired toward Grisk, adrenaline and anger pumping side by side in his veins.

"Give it up, Sobek! There's no where to go!" He shouted, as one of the Komekian soldiers fell to the floor under the weight of his fire. "This ship might be going down, but you're going with it, I swear!"

"You will not prevail, Tau'ri!" came the ragged answering shout.

"This ship will take me back to my rightful place amongst the stars.

Your planet will kneel before me as one!"

"Change the record, you old snake!"

There was a sudden lull, and Jack realised that Sobek and his single defending guard had stopped returning fire.

"They've made a run for it."

"I will go after them. You go help your friend."

"No,' said Jack. "No, it has to be me. Get to the hatch. Help Daniel and Teal'c hold off those men as long as you can."

Mikas looked unhappy. "You expect me to make firing on my own people a habit, Colonel.'

Jack placed a heavy hand on the young man's shoulder. "If there was another way, I'd take it. But believe me, you'd be no match for the thing in Grisk. Go. Hurry."

Mikas eyed him one more time before nodding. "Do what you have to do quickly." Then he was gone, footsteps echoing into the silence of the Ha'tak.

Starting after Grisk, Jack spoke into his radio again. "Carter? This is O'Neill - sit rep?"

"_Colonel! I've just finished replacing the crystals."_

"Good timing. The engine room is clear – get down here and do whatever it is you have to do."

"_Is Sobek…?"_

"I'm on it. Do what you have to do."

"_Copy that, Colonel. Carter out."_

As Carter signed off, Jack picked up his pace, running as fast as possible through the now constantly shaking corridors of the Ha'tak. He was damned if they'd just saved some alien planet to let this snake walk free.

* * *

Sam had just finished sliding the final crystal back into place when her radio sprung into life with the Colonel's message. Scrubbing a hand through her damp hair, Carter scrambled to her feet, boots slipping against the wet surface of the Hat'ak's bridge. Gathering up her tools, Sam ran for the doorway, glancing at her watch. By her calculations, there was less than 30 minutes now before the Ha'tak's engine would be fully operational.

She hadn't even reached the door when she found a gun in her face. Skidding to a halt, Carter looked at her captor in dismay. She didn't recognise his face, but knew the uniform. One of Grisk's men.

"You are the one they call Carter." The soldier's voice was menacing as he moved forward.

Sam backed up slowly, nodding and raising her hands a little. There was no way she'd have time to go for her gun. "That's me. Look, you -"

He silenced her with a blow to the face with the butt of his gun which was hard enough to send her to the floor and make her head ring.

"Silence! You will die for daring to think that you could deceive us! Do you think we are fools? Did you think we would let you walk in here and take our planet with no resistance?"

Still kneeling on the floor, Carter shook her head, touching her jaw gingerly. Her fingers came away bloody from a nasty split in her lip that she could taste, if not see. One of her teeth felt loose, and as she looked up at the furious soldier, a sense of hopelessness washed over her.

"If you don't let me go, we're all going to die," she said matter-of-factly, her vision blurring slightly as she tried to focus on the barrel of the alien's gun.

"No, human, YOU are going to – "

Carter moved as fast as she knew how, scissoring her legs up and into the soldier's chest with blunt force. He plunged backwards and she was on her feet in seconds, following up with a slamming punch to his left cheek. He dropped like a stone, weapon clattering to the floor as he crumpled in a heap.

Sam left the room at a flat run, not even pausing to look at her watch.

* * *

Daniel fell back against the wall of the Ha'tak. His arm was almost useless and he could hardly lift his weapon. They had been forced back two corridors now, and were failing fast. Teal'c moved clumsily into his place, trying to cover the space left by Daniel's sudden retreat, but it was no good.

_This is hopeless,_ Daniel thought to himself. _If our reinforcements don't arrive soon…_

There was a sudden yell from in front of him and he saw Teal'c jerk sideways, slumping to the floor. Fresh blood spattered in an erratic pattern over the ship's wall.

'Teal'c!' Daniel bellowed, rushing forward and pulling his friend out of the line of fire and back beyond the corridor's bend. Looking down, he saw Teal'c lolling into unconsciousness, his chest shattered.

The Komekians took the drop in gunfire to indicate victory and surged forward, shouting. Daniel continued to drag Teal'c backwards, leaning over and picking up his weapon again. He could hardly lift his arm high enough to fire, but he found a pool of strength within him, somewhere. Letting out a long, low animal yell, Daniel let loose a stream of bullets as the first soldiers appeared around the corner. It stopped them momentarily, but Daniel knew it was a forlorn hope.

Then he heard footsteps behind him. Twisting his head, he saw a Komekian uniform. His first thought was that they'd been outflanked somehow, and were surrounded. But then he saw that it was Mikas, and not only that, the young soldier's weapon was trained on his own men.

'Colonel O'Neill sent me,' he shouted, taking up position beside Daniel.

* * *

Carter skidded into the engine room as the Ha'tak gave one huge jolt that almost knocked her clean off her feet. Her head was still ringing from the blow of the Komekian soldier's gun butt, and for a moment Sam's eyes refused to focus.

Shutting her eyes briefly to centre her swimming thoughts, she moved toward the engine. The floor was moving in static bursts, as if the ship was making a concerted effort to break free of the ice. As she approached the engine, the machine began to hum.

"Shit," Carter muttered, recognising the signs of a Goa'uld engine in the final stages of pre-hyper drive warm up. Dropping to the heaving floor, Sam flipped onto her back and pushed herself beneath the engine, hoping to find the panel of crystals she needed intact.

Several of the coloured crystals had been removed. Carter swore to herself again as he engine's hum took on a different quality, and wished, not for the first time since this nightmare started, that she had better contact with her Tok'ra father.

With no time to search for the missing crystals, the Major would just have to hope that changing the sequence of the ones that were present would be enough to power down the engine. It was a long shot, she knew.

"Well," Carter muttered to herself dourly, "it's about time something went my way on this mission…"

Reaching up, Sam forced her vision to steady as she took hold of the first green crystal and pulled. It lost its faint glow as it left the engine. Quickly, she removed one of the red crystals too, and pushed the green into the slot, doing the same with the red she had removed from its place.

"One down," Carter told herself, feeling the ache in her head intensify, "four to go. Peachy."

Just minutes later, the shaking intensified as she reached for the final green crystal. Taking a deep breath, Carter sent a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. If this didn't work, they were all lost.

As her fingers gripped and pulled the crystals as smoothly as her injured head would allow, the hum of the engine changed yet again. It seemed to settle, losing its rough, uneven quality and becoming a level purr.

"Calm before the storm," Carter thought, as with one movement, she pushed the last green crystal home and propelled herself from beneath the dripping console. Forcing herself to her feet, Sam ignored the wave of nausea that swept through her and reached for the glowing orange button on the top of the engine console that she hoped would power down the engine.

Slamming her hand down on the light, Carter shut her eyes.

Nothing happened. The Ha'tak continued to hum. It hadn't worked.

Carter felt the blood drain from her face as she opened her weary eyes and stared at the still-functioning hyper-drive engine.

"The other crystals,' she said to herself, looking around frantically. "It must need the other crystals."

Glancing at her watch, the major made a snap decision. If she didn't find some way of stopping the hyperdrive coming fully online, then in four minutes the Komek would be a dead planet as the plate become a tidal wave big enough to wipe out everyone on the planet. There was one last chance, and she was going to have to take it.

Reaching for the nearest open console containing a full complement of crystals, Carter began tugging them free. Gathering the crystals into her arms, Carter flung herself beneath the engine once more. Staring at the empty slots above her, Sam tried desperately to visualise the positions that each crystal needed to be in. Her usually sharp brain was a fog of panic and barely-suppressed pain, and she couldn't focus.

"Think!" she shouted to herself desperately. "Think, think, THINK!"

Shutting her eyes, Carter tried to pull the memory of the required blueprint out of her mind. It was there, she knew it was, but so much had happened in the last 48 hours that accessing her usually ordered thoughts was a tough task in itself. Gradually though, as the hum of the engine speeded up around her, Sam began to see the image more clearly in her mind.

Opening her eyes, she began to thrust the crystals into their positions, hoping against hope that she was getting the sequence right.

"Blue next to the first green," she recited to herself like a mantra, "then yellow in between that and the first red…"

The humming intensified, and the shaking speeded up, almost becoming a background noise in itself. The Ha'tak was preparing to fly again, for the first time in two thousand or more years, and with it the ship would take the lives of countless millions of innocents –

unless Sam's plan worked.

"Yellow in last, bottom left hand corner…that's it!" Pushing herself out from beneath the engine once again, Carter reached for the still-glowing orange button.

Her fingers had almost reached it when the Ha'tak rolled, jerking itself to the side. Sam was thrown from her feet, sliding across the room and slamming into the opposite wall, her shoulder impacting with the decorated metal.

"No!" she tried to scramble up again, to cross the sopping floor and reach the engine, but the ship pitched again, knocking her to the floor. She slid again, this time toward the hyperdrive. Bracing herself for the impact, Sam thrust out her arms and managed to catch hold of the engine before the ship pitched again. Beneath her, she could feel the ship struggling to free itself from the mountain of ice that had held it captive for so long. The sound was terrible, as cold metal screamed against the ancient ice. Dragging herself up, Carter reached for the button, fingers stretching as far as they would go, reaching for the only chance of salvation for Komek.

* * *

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

**A/N –** The penultimate chapter! I'm on a roll today, baby…

* * *

Daniel banged against the wall as the shaking around them took on a new pace. Ahead of them, the Komekians had stopped firing, unable to keep their footing on the shuddering floor.

Beside him, Teal'c lay, still unconscious, bleeding out. Daniel tried to stop his head from smashing against the floor as the shaking became increasingly violent. Mikas was flung off his feet, plunging one way and then rolling back the other as the ship tried to wrench itself free.

"Is this the engine starting?" Mikas shouted. "Carter must have failed!"

Daniel looked at his watch, trying to focus on the dial as his arm juddered uncontrollably. "She's still got thirty seconds," he shouted back.

The ship pitched again, and Daniel felt himself flying through the air, striking the wall and plummeting to the floor with a force that knocked the air out of him entirely. His vision blurred, and he blood as a huge roaring filled his ears.

And then, nothing.

At first Daniel thought he'd been knocked senseless, his hearing deserting him. But then he heard Mikas' voice echoing from the other end of the corridor.

"Daniel? Can you hear me?" There was the sound of footsteps on wet metal.

Daniel rolled over, relieved and amazed that he could feel no broken bones. "She did it," he said, "Carter did it."

He levered himself up, suddenly aware that the ship was utterly, totally dead. There was not even a trace of a shudder underfoot. Along the corridor, the Komekians were checking themselves over. Mikas covered Daniel as he collected his weapon, but the fight seemed to have gone out of their enemy.

It wasn't until Daniel heard the shouts from the hatch that he realised why. At last, their reinforcements had arrived.

* * *

Jack had narrowly avoided braining himself as the Ha'tak finally gave up the ghost. He'd scrambled back to his feet, weapon primed, anxious to give Sobek no opportunity to attack. Jack had stalked his prey into the shadowed glider decks, and the Colonel had to grudgingly admit that the snake knew what it was doing. If it was to outwit him anywhere, it would be here, where there were plenty of places to hide, and from which to launch an ambush.

There was a sudden burst of gunfire, echoing out of the darkness to his right. It lit up the air in a shower of sparks, and several rounds narrowly missed him as he flattened himself against the wall. He fired back, but blindly, knowing that Sobek had already moved on. He heard footsteps echoing at a run somewhere to his left. Slipping out of cover, Jack followed.

His radio crackled. It was Daniel.

'Kinda busy right now,' he hissed.

'The reinforcements are here, Jack,' Daniel told him.

'Excellent. Tell them to get their butts down to the glider levels.'

There was a pause as Daniel relayed the order. _'They're on their way. So is Mikas."_

Jack grunted in frustration. "Not Mikas. Tell him to stay put. He doesn't know what he's dealing with."

"_It's too late,"_ Daniel said, after a pause. _"he's already coming your way."_

'Dammit. O'Neill out-'

'_No, Jack, wait.'_

The tension in Daniel's voice stopped Jack in his tracks. 'What?'

'_It's Teal'c. He got hit again. Jack – there's nothing the medics can do.'_

Jack blinked hard, once, and then gritted his teeth. 'Copy.'

'_Jack,'_ Daniel said. _'There's the sarcophagus.'_

Tunnel vision set in, followed by a roar of something like anger. Jack stalked forward. 'No.'

'_Jack-'_

'I said no, Daniel. He wouldn't want it. End of.'

'_No – you wouldn't want it,'_ Daniel snapped, equally angry. _'That's not the same as Teal'c not wanting it. He'd want to live. He'd want to carry on the fight. He'd want to see his son again.'_

There wasn't anything Jack could say to that. But he wouldn't let a friend of his go through the hell of that machine.

'You heard me, Daniel,' he hissed. 'O'Neill out.'

* * *

Daniel rubbed a hand over his eyes as Jack cut him off. What had he expected? He knew O'Neill wouldn't go for it willingly. He looked up as new footsteps echoed down the corridor. It was Sam. He smiled at her, wearily, noting with concern the huge bruise that tainted her face. They embraced, briefly.

"Well done, Sam," he said, but she shook her head, dismissing his congratulations.

"Where's Teal'c?"

Daniel's look was enough to tell Sam what she needed to know. He saw the pain there, and wondered if she would help him defy Jack, just this once.

The conversation with Daniel, though brief, had thrown Jack off his game. The trail had gone cold, he realised, as he stood, silently, waiting for Sobek to move and reveal himself. O'Neill swore, convinced that the Goa'uld had moved on, out of the glider bay and into a different part of the ship.

He moved on, through the dead ship, watching for any sign of movement beyond the still-dripping ice.

A few minutes later, he heard the clatter of footsteps, and his back up arrived. There was not a Komekian uniform among them.

"Where's Mikas?" He asked, roughly.

"Sorry sir," one of the airmen shook his head. "He said we should be launching a pincer movement."

Jack swore, but he had more to worry about that one stupid kid. "All right," he said. "Teams of two. Sweep the area. Move out."

* * *

The change in the now-silent corridors of the Ha'tak was about as eerie as anything Daniel had experienced as the small procession bearing Teal'c made it's way through the dead ship. It was almost as if the clocks had been turned back three days to the point where SG-1 had first entered the still-frozen Ha'tak. If it hadn't been for the rivulets of water that were still cascading down the walls and pooling on the floors, it would have seemed identical.

A few feet ahead of them, the two soldiers bearing Teal'c's silent form continued to tread wearily through the quietly echoing 's weapon was finally at rest for the first time in two days, slung across his back. His arm was beginning to ache, the flood of adrenaline that had kept him going since the bullet punctured his skin finally subsiding enough for the pain to seep into his consciousness.

Sam walked close beside him, gun still primed. He could tell she wasn't happy about defying Jack's orders, but he also knew that she'd seen, deep down, that it was the right thing. They just had to hope Jack would see that, too.

* * *

O'Neill was beginning to think that Sobek had somehow beamed clean out of the ship when a rattle of gunfire sounded ahead of him. He ran forward, chasing the arc of sparks sent up by the bullets as they danced through the dark corridors. To his right, he could hear the foosteps of two of his team, rushing forward to meet up.

"Mikas?" he shouted, unclear as to who was ahead of them. Everyone else was accounted for. "Mikas, stand down. I don't want you-"

There was another echo of gunfire, further away, and the sound of a horrible, strangled scream. Jack forced himself forward, faster and faster, chasing the sound.

He realised they were nearing the sarcophagus room, and a thrill of adrenaline shot into his veins. If it were injured, he couldn't let the snake get to the device. He couldn't let it survive-

He swung around a corner and found himself behind Sam, Daniel and a procession carrying Teal'c. At the sound of gunfire they had stopped, dropping into a defensive position outside the door of the sarcophagus room. As he watched, Carter glanced over her shoulder, meeting his eye. She gestured with her chin, and he nodded. They moved forward together, bypassing the group of airmen as they headed for the threshold.

Ahead, a figure was on the wet floor, face down on the cold metal, about two feet from the golden sarcophagus. O'Neill and Carter scanned the room before cautiously moving in. The body was clearly Sobek, prone within Grisk's body. The Komekian's blood was seeping from wounds in his legs. The figure was still.

Jack crept up to it, cautious as a cat, and crouched beside the corpse to feel it's pulse. Glancing up at Carter, he shook his head. This thing wasn't dead yet. O'Neill moved back a fraction, and Carter tightened her grip on her P-90, turning to urge the rest of the group to move back. Standing, his gun trained firmly on the prone figure, Jack flipped the body over with his foot.

The body's eyes opened and looked up at O'Neill without focusing.

"Sobek," Jack growled, cocking the trigger on his weapon. "you just don't know when to quit, do you? Heading for the sarcophagus, by any chance?"

Confusion passed through the man's eyes, and he blinked. There was no trace of the tell-tale glow, just pain in all-too human eyes.

'Colonel… O'Neill?" The voice was rasping, but held no trace of the Goa'uld inflection.

O'Neill glanced at Carter again, a sharp look passing between them.

"O'Neill…" the voice was stronger this time, though still little more than a whisper. "You…were right. I…was… wrong. But I fought. I tried to stop it…"

O'Neill rubbed an anxious hand over his face, and crouched beside the figure again.

"Grisk? That you?"

"Yes…"

O'Neill looked up, flicking an anxious glance between Carter and Daniel. "Shit."

"I wanted to say one thing to you…." Grisk raised a hand, gesturing for o'Neill to move closer. Daniel started forward.

"Jack, be careful…"

"It's alright, Daniel. I think the snake is dead," said Jack, looking at Grisk, leaning forward slightly.

The whisper echoed around the walls of the corridor, carrying along the water to Daniel's ears as he held his breath and listened to what this once-harsh leader had to say.

"You were right," Grisk whispered, "and I fought. Once I knew what was within me, I fought, as hard as I could, but it was not good enough. It took a stranger to save my world. Thank you."

"Sir…." Carter spoke, her voice tight and anxious, "Sir, I don't think –"

Her words were cut off as a deep rumbling started up around them. O'Neill jumped to his feet as the walls of the ha'tak started to shake.

"What the hell is that?"

Carter's face had drained of colour. "It's the engines."

"I thought you'd switched this damn thing off?"

"I did!"

"Then what –"

Jack saw Daniel push forwards toward Grisk, looking down at the dead commander. "None of these wounds are fatal. What's he dying of? Jack?" Daniel looked up at O'Neill. "He's not dying of wounds – he's dying because he no longer has a Goa'uld. Sobek's gone."

O'Neill stared back at him as realisation dawned. "Mikas."

Daniel nodded, dumbly, as the ship began to shake once more.

"Carter," O'Neill shouted. "You're with me." He paused, stopping to look at strong, dark features of their fallen comrade. "Daniel. You were right. Get Teal'c into the sarcophagus."

* * *

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

**A/N **– last chapter, and I am weirdly glad this is out there, although I wish I'd had the time and concentration to work at it more. I hope that anyone still reading doesn't think it was a colossal waste of their time. I appreciate you keeping with it.

* * *

The blood pounded angrily in Jack's ears as his boots struck metal of the Ha'tak's corridors and he cursed himself for not seeing this coming.

Beside him, Carter kept pace as they headed for the bridge.

"You tried to stop him, sir. What else could you have done?"

He dismissed her reassurances with a grunt of barely contained fury, concentrating on moving as fast as possible toward their target without slipping on the wet floors.

"When we get there," he ordered through gritted teeth. "Just take him out. Whatever it takes. Just take him out."

He felt her eyes on him for a moment longer before seeing her head nod in a swift acknowledgement.

_Mikas is already dead,_ he told himself. _Just see the snake and kill it. Just see the snake…_

They entered the bridge at a flat run to find Sobek leaning over the controls of the Ha'tak. That which had once been Mikas turned and grinned at them, the devilish glow of the parasite gleaming behind the young soldier's eyes.

"It was so easy. So easy," Sobek rasped in triumph. "You are as soft and foolish as the rest of your race, only good for slaves and doing the bidding of your gods!"

Jack gritted his teeth and raised his weapon. "Yeah? Well from what I hear, in some places people eat snakes." He fired, the bullets slamming into Sobek, slamming into the body that had once been a young soldier so full of promise.

O'Neill heard Carter's own firepower join his, and together they pushed forward into the room.

"You are too late!" Sobek screamed from the floor. "If you will not serve, you will die!"

"Now that doesn't sound like much fun to me. What about you, Carter?" He fired again, glancing at Carter, who broke away and headed for the hyperdrive controls.

"To me either, Colonel!"

As she moved to power down the engine, O'Neill shot Sobek again, repeatedly, hardening his heart as he watched Mikas' body writhe on the floor. At last the broken figure stopped moving and Jack paused to watch the evil light fade as Sobek died, taking Mikas with him.

Walking up to the body, Jack placed the barrel of his weapon up against its forehead and fired again, just once.

Around him, the Ha'tak powered down once again, silence settling against his raw nerves as he stared blindly at the body before him. Moments passed, though they seemed like hours, and Jack started as he felt a hand on his arm. It was Carter, standing beside him.

"Colonel?" he looked into her face, noting for the first time the ugly bruise that marred its bright beauty. "I think it's over," she said.

He looked down at Mikas' body again, and nodded once, silently, before walking away.

* * *

The Plate, when they re-emerged onto it, from the darkness of the Ha'tak, had changed. The ice had cracked and wavered under the pressure of the Ha'tak's desperate attempts to free itself, and the ice floe now looked more like a minature mountain range than an ice flat.

His boots crunched against snow that was falling on this world yet again, and Jack knew that it would probably be a long time? before he could confortably stand that sound again. Behind him, the medical team that had arrived from the SGC in the last few minutes were checking Teal'c over. SG-1 had stayed in the Ha'tak until their team mate had recovered inside the sarcophagus, and not for the first time, O'Neill had had to reluctantly thank the Goa'uld for leaving behind such adept technology.

Carter and Daniel were also being looked after, the Major for what looked like cracked ribs and mild concussion, and Daniel for his nasty bullet wound. Despite the sorry state of his team, O'Neill sighed with relief as he looked them over. This had been a close one, for all of them, and they were more than a little lucky to have made it out alive. He watched as the medic finished with Daniel and his friend stood up, replacing his remarkably resilient glasses with one hand and waving at Jack before standing to move toward him.

"Jack." Daniel said with a faint smile, his injured arm uncomfortable in the sling around his neck.

"Daniel," O'Neill nodded to his arm. "How bad is it?"

The archaeologist shrugged. "The bullet tore a ligament and they say it'll take a while to heal. Could have been worse."

"Yeah," Jack nodded soberly, "a lot worse."

They stood looking out across the damaged Plate, watching the parties of soldiers – Komekian and SGC troops alike – moving warily about the ice.

"So what did Hammond say?"

Jack scuffed a toe in the ice. "Well, the Komekian's are open to negotiations again. Mainly because they need our help. They're going to give us access to the Ha'tak – friendly access, this time, and we'll help them with their…environmental issues."

"We didn't stop the cascade reaction in time, did we?"

Jack shook his head with a sigh. "The Plate's more unstable than before. But I'm sure we can figure something out."

Daniel's eyebrows raised, skeptical. "We haven't figured it out on Earth."

Jack had to concede the point, but was stopped short of saying anything in reply as Carter and Teal'c walked up to join them. O'Neill grinned, clapping the big warrior on the back. At more than one point in the last few days, O'Neill had expected to be saying a permanent goodbye to his friend and colleague.

"T, old buddy. Good to see you feeling better."

Teal'c inclined his head, a small smile on his face. "As am I, O'Neill. I will be happer once we leave this planet, however. This climate still does not agree with me."

"You and me both, Teal'c, you and me both."

"Well, I for one am not looking forward to the debrief," Carter said quietly.

_It wasn't your fault_, O'Neill wanted to tell her, but from Carter's still-shadowed eyes the Colonel realised it would be a long time before she fully believed that truth. Instead, he fell back on what he knew, quirking his lips into a grin that he didn't entirely feel.

"Ah ha! But just think of after the debrief, Carter."

"After the debrief, sir?"

He nodded, turning and striding off across the ice as his team fell in step beside him. "I believe," he began, "that Hammond mentioned something about downtime. To recuperate, while you guys heal and they work out what the next course of action is to help Komek."

"Downtime sounds good to me," said Carter.

"No kidding," Daniel agreed, wincing as his arm tugged painfully in its sling.

"So," Jack began, "why don't we take it together? We don't want to be staying in Colorado Springs, do we?"

"What did you have in mind? Your cabin?" Carter asked.

"I do not recommend that as a suitable vacation for convalescence," said Teal'c loudly, provoking grins from both Carter and Daniel.

"Hey! I'll have you know that cabin is perfect for convalescence. However, I was thinking somewhere a little different."

"Different?"

"Yeah… say… Aspen?"

He felt Carter stop and carried on walking a few paces before he turned to look at her.

"Aspen?" she echoed, incredulously.

"Sure. Why not? Daniel wanted to learn how to ski."

"_Aspen_?" she said again, glaring at Daniel for support.

"What's wrong with Aspen?" Jack said again, beginning to walk once more in the direction of the Stargate. "We can toast marshmallows…"

"Jack," warned Daniel, "shut up."

"…snowboard…"

"Jack, I mean it…"

"…engage in some après-ski… always wanted to give that a try. Whatever it is…"

"Jack, I'm warning you…"

"…they've got a nice ice rink for hockey…."

He'd probably never know for certain, really, but when the snowball hit him just above the collar of his BDUs, Jack was pretty sure it came from Teal'c's direction.

"Do they have fondue in Aspen?" he asked, trudging on.

He didn't get an answer, but he knew the rest of SG-1 were behind him.

They always were.

[END]


End file.
